Memorial service(furneral)

As the clock neared one PM I could feel the pain slowly creeping up on me.
Could feel the way it longed to devour me, to render me useless.
However I tried to stay calm as it slowly creeped up on me.
On the inside my body was screaming fight it.
But in my mind I knew it was wrong to fight it.
So I stayed as calm as I could as we got into the car and headed to the park.
An outdoor memorial service fit Joe's personailty.
He loved the outdoors.
As we approached the bright blue tent where the service was to be held I heard my mom say "Damn, Amy there's some good looking boys."
And even though my eyes scanned the area, I didn't see what she saw.
All I could see was the friends of Joe who lazed around the tent, waiting for the family to arrive, for the service to begin.
"Where?" I'd asked absent-mindly, to be perfectly honest I could have cared less.
At the exact moment I asked I heard her say. "Damn those uniforms really make a man look good."
I realized what she meant before I saw them.
She was of course referring to the Marines who'd be here to fold the flag, to present it to the family, to read a verse from the bible, to shoot the guns.
After a moment my eyes focused on the three Marines upon which she was referring.
"I suppose so." I'd said, not able to tell how they looked from there nor able to care at the time.
My mom made several comments about them that I responsed to in ways which obivously did not please her as we got out of the car and walked towards the tent.
I call it a tent.
But it wasn't really a tent.
But it was like a tent.
Like a tent without walls.
Like a very big tent.
We signed the guessbook and looked over the photos, did all the usual stuff that goes along with waiting for a memorial service to start and then we all gathered around inside the tent or around the tent as what would happen today was explained.
They explained that Joe wished that he along with his wifes ashes would be spread amongest the llano river via plane.
And we watched as the small plane flew high above and scattered the ashes, flapping it's wings afterwards to show that the mission was done.
As the plane flew they played the Marines song and I couldn't help but crack a smile even as I could feel the tears building, waiting to spill over.
We turned our attention to the veteren who then proceeded to read us a scripture from the bible and present the bible to the oldest living member of the family.
Helen, Joe's sister.
Two of the three Marines approached with practiced percison and picked up the already folded flag and slowly began to unfold it. After it was held out to be viewed the gun shots began to go off and the tears clinged to my lashes almost like they had no desire to fall.
My eyes slid closed as the shots rang out and echoed amongest the hills. I could picture so vivedly in my mind a scene of war and the tears spilled over, running down my cheeks and falling onto my shirt but I did not care.
Soon, the gun fire ceased and the third Marine approached the others, helping them to fold the bullet casings into the flag as they folded it.
They saluted each other several times throughout the whole mess before two of them walked off once again with practiced percison and the other Marine turned his attention to Helen, getting down on one knee and spoke to her about how they wanted her to accept the flag and such, I was too far away to hear exactly what was said.
He handed her the flag and I could hear her say "Thank you" several times and he saluted her before standing and he too, walked away with practiced percison.
Throughout this whole thing all I could think was that Joe deserved every little detail that he got at the memorial service, he deserved nothing less but so much more.
And yet I knew deep down that he wouldn't have wanted more than this.
Kevin, his youngest son had told most of Joe's lifestory.
Of how he was raised, how he raised them, how he served in the Marines, how he had a passion for taking care of customers, had a passion for shoes.
Most of this I already knew, but I heard a few things I did not know.
A man who'd written a poem that Joe liked came up and said the poem he had written.
He explained what Cowboys and Marines have in common, causing me to smile through the tears that wished to fall but didn't.
One of the local preachers spoke.
We were all invited to come out to the hotel to celebrate his life.
Told we'd be cracking open all the champagne bottles he'd received that he'd never opened because he honestly never liked the stuff.
So we'd come home for a few minutes to go to bathroom, put on more comfortable shoes and I had just enough time to E-mail Ali to let her know what was going on.
We headed to the hotel where for the first thirty minutes or so were spent visiting and looking through photos albums, the champagne started to pour, my Father permitted me a sip of his and I was relucant to let it go. It was so much better than wine and also, a part of me really wanted to drown my pain in alcohol just like everyone else would be.
But no, I was the person who was going to be driving home if mom and dad got too drunk.
I was the one who was forced to drink three doctor peppers and one coke as the smell of alcoholic beverages filled the air.
Bottles of beer were cracked open.
Bottles and bottles of champagne was poured.
Mixed drinks were made.
And after a couple of drinks everyone seemed to loosen up.
Everyone seemed to be able to forget the sadness and the pain and just celebrate the life of an amazing and great man.
A man who'd effected us all in positive ways.
And for awhile I was even able to smile and mean it.
I was able to kid around a bit and then I'd take a look at Dad's eyes and see the pain that was barely hidden by the alcohol and remember why we were there.

Tonight many tears shall be shed.
Tonight I shall not fight the pain when it comes to overtake me.
Tonight my family and several other people will mourn the loss of this truly amazing man.
Tonight he will be honored.
Tonight many of us will go to bed remembering the toast that was made to him.
Tonight we will mourn while deep down in our hearts we know he is in a better place and that it was his time to go.

As much as it hurts, as much as we might wish it hadn't of happened.
We will admit that he was ready to leave us.
We will admit that he is much happier now.
We will admit that he wouldn't be happy if he knew how upset we were.

But tonight, we will cry.
And tomorrow many of us will carefully seal away our hearts.
But we will all make sure to never forget Joe Parker.

R.I.P
Joe Parker
10-22-23 to 11-6-08
You will be greatly missed.



XOXO,
Dollface.