Last night my long lost son instant message me. I haven’t heard from him in so long I though maybe he met a girl, got married and had two children but no he is still single. He said something to me that left me wondering.
My father built the house that mom and he shared for 50 years. She had no say so in how it was constructed and how it was decorated. She was to busy running the business while he was consumed with building the house. This house was his pride and joy. Just before his death I teased him about the windows. He refused to update the windows; they were falling apart and desperately needed replacing. I told him if he replaced the windows that I would take the old ones and build him a glass casket and that way he could take part of the house with him. He just grinned. He finally relented and agreed to replace the windows. He was there when they picked them out but he didn’t get to see them installed.
It was shortly after his death that mom’s dog, Lily started acting strange. She would go into mom and dad’s bedroom and bark at the wall where his bed was. Thinking it could be the pictures that were making her nervous we removed everything on the walls. She still barked. Then mom and I decided for her to switch bedrooms and take everything out of the room. She still barked at the now blank walls in the bedroom where no furniture existed. Then we shut the bedroom door. She scratched incessantly at the bedroom doors until we gave up and left it open. Folks would ask “why is that dog barking?” It was very odd but we got use to her barking at blank walls and looking down the hall. Before you jump to the conclusion that Lily and dad were inseparable let me tell you that were not true. Lily had a slight attachment problem and was not really attached to anyone.
I will admit, as will others that stayed in the house, it was weird. You would get the feeling that someone was behind you even though nobody was there. Or you would get the feeling that someone was watching you.
We are a strange family when it comes to funeral rituals. My grandmother, my father, my mother and I included loath funerals. Our philosophy is this “if you won’t come and see us when we are alive, then it is pointless to see us dead.” My grandmother and father were cremated, no funeral, no memorial services, and no advertising it in the paper. Those that were close to them were notified and given consent to hold a memorial service if that is what they needed for closure only we wouldn’t be attending. We would be at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and remembering. That is what got us in trouble with the neighbors when dad passed; we left the windows open. We were laughing so hard at some of my dad’s antics and the memories that he created for us to enjoy that our neighbors became quite upset with us and refused to talk to us again. Ah but that is another story.
My dad and my grandmother are now up on the mantle of the fireplace in the living room. We put dad’s old cowboy hat on top of his little box and Granny’s favorite demitasse teacup and saucer on her box. Scott came in the house this past weekend and kind of got a strange feeling that something wasn’t right. He check out the rooms and when he entered the living room there was Grandpa’s hat. It was lying on the floor, next to the fireplace, like someone set it there. Keep in mind there we didn’t leave the air conditioner on so there was no air flow. It was very strange, made him feel very uncomfortable. It is interesting to think that he never left the house that he loved so much and comforting to know that he is with his mother.
Later
My father built the house that mom and he shared for 50 years. She had no say so in how it was constructed and how it was decorated. She was to busy running the business while he was consumed with building the house. This house was his pride and joy. Just before his death I teased him about the windows. He refused to update the windows; they were falling apart and desperately needed replacing. I told him if he replaced the windows that I would take the old ones and build him a glass casket and that way he could take part of the house with him. He just grinned. He finally relented and agreed to replace the windows. He was there when they picked them out but he didn’t get to see them installed.
It was shortly after his death that mom’s dog, Lily started acting strange. She would go into mom and dad’s bedroom and bark at the wall where his bed was. Thinking it could be the pictures that were making her nervous we removed everything on the walls. She still barked. Then mom and I decided for her to switch bedrooms and take everything out of the room. She still barked at the now blank walls in the bedroom where no furniture existed. Then we shut the bedroom door. She scratched incessantly at the bedroom doors until we gave up and left it open. Folks would ask “why is that dog barking?” It was very odd but we got use to her barking at blank walls and looking down the hall. Before you jump to the conclusion that Lily and dad were inseparable let me tell you that were not true. Lily had a slight attachment problem and was not really attached to anyone.
I will admit, as will others that stayed in the house, it was weird. You would get the feeling that someone was behind you even though nobody was there. Or you would get the feeling that someone was watching you.
We are a strange family when it comes to funeral rituals. My grandmother, my father, my mother and I included loath funerals. Our philosophy is this “if you won’t come and see us when we are alive, then it is pointless to see us dead.” My grandmother and father were cremated, no funeral, no memorial services, and no advertising it in the paper. Those that were close to them were notified and given consent to hold a memorial service if that is what they needed for closure only we wouldn’t be attending. We would be at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and remembering. That is what got us in trouble with the neighbors when dad passed; we left the windows open. We were laughing so hard at some of my dad’s antics and the memories that he created for us to enjoy that our neighbors became quite upset with us and refused to talk to us again. Ah but that is another story.
My dad and my grandmother are now up on the mantle of the fireplace in the living room. We put dad’s old cowboy hat on top of his little box and Granny’s favorite demitasse teacup and saucer on her box. Scott came in the house this past weekend and kind of got a strange feeling that something wasn’t right. He check out the rooms and when he entered the living room there was Grandpa’s hat. It was lying on the floor, next to the fireplace, like someone set it there. Keep in mind there we didn’t leave the air conditioner on so there was no air flow. It was very strange, made him feel very uncomfortable. It is interesting to think that he never left the house that he loved so much and comforting to know that he is with his mother.
Later
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