Montreal Community Magazine: 2 SOLITUDES : Revue de la Communauté de Montréal - http://www.2solitudes.com
For my Dad Russell
http://www.2solitudes.com/articles/123/1/For-my-Dad-Russell.html
Debra Cathcart

Montreal interior designer by day,  poet and author by night.

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by/par Debra Cathcart
Published/Publié 08/15/2010
 
After the funeral service, all the words seem to pour out like tears. I want to remember this moment and pay homage to my father.

Je me souviens

Your spirit is still here today, to help us all to guide the way.
The way was hard and harder still, to hear that crow, that chilling trill.
Just when the preacher started to preach about the dearly departed.
So we re here and you’ve departed, the chain of loss is only started.

They said we’d have completion today but each will find it in their own way.
They prayed for sun, I prayed for rain to wash my face yet once again
My hand on the casket I heard the sound, you telling me you’re still around
To look down on me when times are tough, to tell me that it’s not so rough.

To be alone in this large world and that I’m still your little girl.
Our parting words were short and sweet, See you Sunday when we meet
For Sunday’s game, the winning save, now five months later at your grave.
I said I love you Dad and please feel better, I’m sure you are just under the weather.

Now this Sunday under threatening skies, we had to say our last goodbyes.
So shoulder to shoulder we did stand to honour not a common man,
A man who so deeply loved his wife, he was willing to give up his life.
His life he loved in their own home, until last January never alone.

He didn’t really die that day, he’d started already when she went away.
I could see it in the packing, the casting off of all the wrapping.
I could see it in his eyes when he talked of moving and what a big surprise
That fate would have him moving then, just when they were old and wise.

My dad was wiser than they thought, he had his plan and they knew naught.
His goal to make his wife secure before he went and so be sure
She was surrounded by the ones she loves, except for him who’s now above.
I know what it’s like to be on the outside looking in.

I know he felt that all his life, especially with her kin.
He did complain a very few times but with her he was always fine.
And when I dared be different, he’d say I crossed the line.
So I crossed the line today, dear Dad, I think you would’ve been proud

I held my head up high again and spoke from my heart aloud.
Now that I know where to find you, Ill bring a picnic and sit on the hill.
I’ll even bring the chicken that you bought in Boucherville.
That how much you loved her, to drive forty miles for dinner

But she deserves it as she has that depth of love within her.
My family is always torn apart each time a dear one leaves
It’s up to the remaining ones to see how each one grieves.
Some people need their silence, some people speak their pain

Some people travel through this life and know we’ll meet again.
So I’ll see you at the picnic Dad, on the hill in Boucherville.

August 15.2010

Debra