We caught the red-eye drive Thursday evening…Normally people refer to red-eye flights, but I had never heard of a red-eye drive until Sarah coined the phrase as we drove in the dark to Delaware on Thursday. We arrived at 10pm, so not quite the classic red-eye but certainly past Sarah’s normal tuck-in time.
The late bedtime didn’t stop Sarah from waking early on Friday and talking animatedly. Carl and I kept offering that she could get up and get breakfast. She kept saying that she wanted to sleep but then would proceed to talk a blue streak. After two hours of this I declared that I was getting up to get breakfast. She said, “ok, I’m almost awake.” We all cracked up. It’s hard to stay grumpy about missed slumber in the face of such humor.
We came to Delaware for the memorial service for my dad, or as Sarah has been saying, John E. “Granddad.” He always went by Jack, so the obituary refers to him as John E. “Jack” Briggs. I love how Sarah’s mind can swap words and ideas around so fluidly.
Many family members came from near and far, some of whom we hadn’t seen for years. Carl’s parents and Sonia and her partner came to the service to be there for all of us and to help with Sarah if she needed anything.
The service was beautiful, filled with laughter, tears, and good memories. Amy lit the chalice with my brother standing at her side. Sarah sat on Carl’s lap and cried hard for the first several minutes of the service. It seemed like the grief hit her deeply, but I think she was expressing what the rest of us felt inside. During one song, Grammy went over to Sarah to give her a hug, hoping to bring comfort and actually bringing deeper tears – not just from Sarah. Carl and I both cried more with that hug. Two of my uncles, my brother, and I had prepared something to say, and I was sure I was ready until the actual moment, at which point I didn’t know if I could speak rather than just sob. Somehow we all made it through our words, although I couldn’t sing any of the songs because I kept thinking how perfect they were and how my dad would have loved them so I was too full of tears to sing.
I have felt incredibly supported and loved by so many people from so many different walks of life. Seeing people who taught with my dad, that I have known from my earliest years was heart-mending. Getting a card from my elementary school signed by my sixth-grade teachers, who still teach there, speaks of all that is right with the world.
When I think about my experiences growing up, all I can conclude is that I was so so so lucky to have Jack Briggs as my father. I hit the Jackpot for sure. Friday night Sarah slept with the memorial service program by her pillow. Saturday morning she woke up and said, “I lost Granddad! Can you look for him? Can you find him?” While I knew she probably meant the paper version, it still rather hit the emotional nail on the head. Then she quoted some of the things written about him but continued by adding “and he was loved all to pieces.” He certainly was loved all to pieces, by so many. Eventually I may be able to look the heartbreak full in the face instead of trying to control it by focusing on other things.
We spent some time where Granddad used to live so that the girls could start getting accustomed to the space as it is now. Grammy gave Sarah Granddad’s watch because she always loved it. She promptly put it on and blew a kiss upward for Granddad. Amy tried on the medieval helmet that we will take home so it can join the chain mail. It was just a wee bit big on her. It is lovely to have these mementos and to have the heart filling memories of the service and our family time this weekend.
Wishing you all a heart full of love.
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