Looking for catharsis..

So, the funeral was today. I barely made it to the Funeral Chapel in time. (I'm blaming my Murphy's Law of a bad day up to that point.) Andy showed up, which was nice. We went in for the service, and got to sit at the front (that's what they do for pallbearers, at least this time). I was generally okay, even when the music was playing. I teared up, yes, but no sobs or anything.

The preacher who presided over the funeral did a fantastic job. Even the cynic in me was impressed. You can tell that he truly feels the way he preaches, if that makes any sense. If I was tempted to go to chuch on Sundays, it'd be to his congregation. THAT probably makes more sense. He explained how Pop "lived in the moment" like Jesus did. Now, he obviously wasn't saying that Pop was Jesus, but rather that Pop's dedication to life as it was happenig instead of having "an agenda" was part of what made him who he was.

He explained that Pop would not have wanted us to be sad at his funeral, and also said that we shouldn't be, since that's not how Pop was. I agreed with him on that one. He told some amusing anecdotes from his time spent with the family the other night. (Highlights include how Pop never saw a reason to pitch old clothes, as long as they could still be worn. One time, his own daughter mistook him for a homeless person because of it. THEN, she realized who he was. :) ) I found more tears during this time, but I was smiling this time.

For the final part of the service, they played an instrumental track. Half way through it, I realized that I was hearing "Unchained Melody." This turned on the waterworks, because that was the song that was used during one of the videos that was played during their golden anniversary back in April. I believe that it was "their" song. I felt the tears running down my face, but I kept silent.

Then, the memorial service ended, and it was time for us to load Pop into the hearse for his final trip. I stood around with the other pallbearers, waiting. They brought Pop out, and we loaded him into the hearse. They said that we could walk to the site, or follow the processional in a car. (His final resting place is behind the Funeral Home.) Andy and I decided to walk. I found myself getting very teary. I came this close *holds thumb and forefinger a quarter inch apart* from breaking down totally at that point. Even thinking about it now, I feel the tears tugging at my eyes.

I helped lay him to rest, and then hugged Mamma Dunn and Cindy as hard as I could, because I couldn't keep the tears out of my eyes. This was hard on them, but it was hard on me, too. Pop was like a second father for me.

I've known him for the better part of 12 years, and was welcome at the house, with or without Kevin. They always liked seeing me, and it became a tradition that I hang their Christmas lights, because Pop couldn't. Nevertheless, Pop would be outside with me, helping in whatever way he could. I always got dinner with them afterward, and I always felt so comfortable and loved, just sitting in the dining room. I didn't have to have Kevin around to want to help them. I would do anything in my power to help them. Anything.

I know I'm talking about them both (Mamma Dunn and Pop), but that's just how they were. They were -- as I like to say -- stupid for each other. I mean, I've never seen anyone as perfect for each other as them. One cannot really think of one without the other. I love them both with all my heart. That's something that they taught me somewhat, but I've learned more acutely in the last few days. Love is real. I've know it was intellectually, just from watching them. Yet, since Pop died, I've learned something else: I really am one of that family, and I really love them. But learning it this way hurts so much..

Despite some comments that only close family should have been around Mamma Dunn and Kevin right after it happened, I had a feeling that I could have shown up, and been totally accepted. At the viewing last night, I realized I was right. Today, I shared in their grief. Rick, good buddy that he is (even if he's stuck in PA), told me to watch out for Kevin during this time. I told Rick not to worry, because Kevin had Brandi. I'm glad, because I needed (and probably still need) someone to comfort me. Hugging Mamma Dunn after giving her my pallbearer boutonniere (it was too windy to place them on the casket), I couldn't help but break down like a baby. I'm going to miss that man.

I don't know why neither Charles nor Andy was as affected by today as I was. They've both been around more or less the same amount of time that I have been. I couldn't keep the tears out of my eyes, yet I never truly broke down. I can feel it there, just beneath the surface. I know I need to get it out and move on, but I just don't quite feel the closure I think I should. (Part of it, though, is that I refuse to let my mind shunt this to a section where I don't think about it.. Lemme re-explain that. I'm keeping it fresh in memory, so that my mind doesn't readjust things so that I "forget" that Pop's gone. I feel it's important to understand he's no longer with us, and to move on with that knowledge firmly in mind. Far better to do that, instead of letting my defense mechanisms protect me incorrectly again.)

I think that I'm going to visit the grave either tomorrow afternoon or Saturday sometime. I need to have a heart-to-heart with him, one last time.