Remember Dale
Someone asked me if I had any plans for the one month mark after Dale’s death. Oh boy! I had not even thought of that. Here is what has been on my heart…what if I can’t remember? What if, as the years pass, I can’t remember Dale. What if I can no longer remember what he looked like or what he smelled like, or how he would hug me? What if I can’t remember? I do not want to forget. As the years pass will I remember Dale? That thought grieves me to no end. As I sit here typing this I cry, lots and lots of tears. Will I remember Dale? Will I remember how generous he was? Will I remember how he was always willing to lend a hand? Will I remember that I always knew that if I called him, he would come. Will I remember he was always there for me. No matter how much he struggled in his own life, others always came first.
My last conversation with him he asked me how he could help others when he could not even help himself. Yet he tried to help himself. Even at the end, he was trying. Dale was an alcoholic. He went to treatment twice, yet the addiction would not loosen its grip on him. Five days before he died, he stopped drinking. Cold turkey. His body could not handle it. He checked himself into the hospital. Suddenly things went bad. That is what the doctor told me. His heart could not take it and it stopped. They worked on Dale for a long time. Yet his heart would not work on its own. Dale never gave up, he kept trying. I always want to remember how hard Dale tried. How much he loved his family. How much he loved his friends. How much I loved him. He once talked about dying. I told him he could not die, I would be devastated. I was right. I am devastated.
Since being asked that question about plans for something to mark one month, I have been giving it a lot of thought. It is winter here where we live. The ground is already covered in snow. We won’t be able to put a grave marker on his grave until spring. I want to do something for the winter months, to mark his grave. I want to be able to see where he is, from the road. I think I will put one those bent rods that hold hanging flower baskets at the head of his grave. I have seen others at the cemetery so I know they are allowed there. I won’t be able to hang flower baskets with real flowers, but maybe I can place other items. At least his grave will be marked and I will be able to find it. That thought brings me some comfort. Now that I have thought of this, I don’t want to wait until the one month mark. I want to do it right away.