The Chelaru Family: Dad's burial

I am going to attempt to write about burying my dad. I have tried a few times, but it is just so painful I can't get through it. Maybe the third time is the charm..
I am going to skip forward past the two day drive it took to get to MN. I drove out with my mom, sister and grandma. Under the circumstances we all managed to keep each other laughing, which was a small blessing. I mostly drove, Cathie mostly slept, Mom made sure I didn't go off the road, and grandma kept the snacks coming. It worked out beautifully. We got there on Wed evening, and after meeting up with the entire family at my aunt's house, we all crashed. Thurs we had to go and meet with the funeral director. It didn't even cross my mind that we had to pick out "memorials" for the service, or talk about the lot in the plot my dad was getting buried in. I know this is all stuff that has to be discussed, but it was so far from my mind. I am glad there is a job position that gets these things done and accomplished. Right before we left the funeral home, we were given my dad's ashes.

My grandparent's had brought my dad back with them when they left Utah the day after his first service. We could have had him shipped or at the time we thought we were going to fly and putting him in luggage seemed very impersonal and truthfully made me sick to my stomach. My grandparents are friends with the owner of Leavitt's mortuary in Ogden, and he had people come in after hours to cremate my dad. I am not going to lie. When I found out, that while I was sitting at my mom's house, my dad's body was being burned to ash, I lost it. I know this is what we all agreed on, but it doesn't make it any easier. I don't know why the thought of my dad's body not being in tact made me so emotional, but it was just so final. The next morning, my mom and brother went to pick up the ashes. She called me crying. It was still warm. My mom said she just held on to the urn with all her strength and wept, Chad just put his hand on top of hers and said, "I know." I am very thankful Chad was with my mom. I had already gone back to Lehi, and was very glad she didn't go by herself. As soon as Chad and my mom got back to her house, my grandparent's and aunt took the urn to bring back to MN.
So when we left the funeral home in MN, this was the first time I saw the urn. I cried and cried. It is just not something you can prepare yourself for. My dad's physical body doesn't exist anymore, and that is just a hard concept to get past.
At 4:30pm my immediate family (roughly 20 of us) all gathered at the little country church cemetery that already housed my great grandparents. This was the absolute hardest thing we had to do. This was so much worse than the funerals, or even the death of my dad. Burying him, and knowing we had to leave him there and say goodbye was awful. We knew my dad wouldn't have wanted anybody else besides family burying him. Having this intimate burial made it very special. We all took turns digging my dad's grave with tears pouring down our faces When the moment came for my mom to put his urn in the ground, she knelt down looked up at me, and through sobs asked, "Are you ready?" I just shook my head, but I knelt down beside her, as did Chad and Cathie. We each took a handful of dirt, sprinkled it across his ashes and said our goodbyes. When my aunt bent down next to me, she took off her "cancer" bracelet that we all were wearing, and had been wearing since March of this year. She threw it in the grave, as a remembrance of my dad. We all followed suit. Now he will have a piece of us with him. My mom, Chad, Cathie and I all just held each other and sobbed. Then the rest of the family came over and we all just clung to one another. It was done. My dad's body was buried and a little bit of closure came with it. The next day was his funeral with all the people we grew up with. This funeral was harder than the first. These people have known my family for decades. I grew up in such a small farm town, that everybody knew of my dad.
It was so hard to leave, but the following day we had to start out journey back home. We had to leave my dad in MN. My family said they would look after him, but I know I will be going up North often. I need a tangible place to go and talk to him. And now we are all home and preparing for Thanksgiving. The weeks since being home have been the hardest, as I stated in my previous post. I cry almost daily. Jack still talks about his papa every night, and I am almost making it through the conversation without tearing up. Vic just holds me, and listens to me cry. I talk to my dad every night. Jack says he sees him. I know my dad is with us, and watching over us. He is keeping true to his promise, and is our guardian angel. Believing this, is what is getting me though my days and making each day a fraction easier.