I accidentally let Cosmo out of the gate as we were the last ones to leave. I had to chase him up the road in my heels. Finally Rowdy from across the street helped me catch him with a cookie I grabbed from the house. I was so relieved.
I arrived at the funeral breathless and with dirty shoes! But we made it.
We had another wonderful viewing with LOTS of people. The line was winding out the doors and down the hall. We finally had to just cut it off. We were out of time.
Then JB offered the beautiful family prayer. We were all nervous for the moment when we would need to close the casket. And it was very sad and emotional. We all said goodbye to our beloved dad, mom kissed his head, and then we closed the lid. It was the last time I will lay my eyes on my dad in this mortal life. It was heartbreaking.
 |
| Rindi and Lance, saying Goodbye. |
 |
| My poor kids are so sad. |
 |
| Emma is heartbroken to lose her Grandpa. :( |
 |
| Goodbye, Dad. |
 |
| Mom and JB |
 |
| Tucking him in... |
We reverently filed into the packed chapel. And then it was time. Each of us one by one got up and delivered our message. First Mille did an excellent job, then Judi was fantastic, then Joni gave a beautiful message. Stalee's was so amazing, too. I was amazed by the poise and eloquence of my sisters. Even though I was emotional, it started to calm my heart. I was thinking, "If they can do it, maybe I can too."
So many people told me they would pray for me. After a wonderful musical number by Spencer Stokes (Dad's friend), "How Great Thou Art," I stood. It was my turn. Spencer hugged me tightly in the aisle and then I was up at the pulpit looking out at the crowd.
I delivered it just as I had practiced. I held it together. I shared my strong testimony. I paid loving tribute to my Dad. And then I was done.
Katie and Sunee both did amazing jobs, too. And then JB stood and delivered a powerful address. I joked that he was the Keynote Speaker! But it was truly the icing on a beautiful cake to hear JB speak.
When it was over, we all followed the casket outside. All of the sons and son-in-laws were pall bearers. They looked so powerful together. My Greg was super emotional, but my heart swelled with love for all of these men.
 |
| The stalwart men! |
 |
| My Greg is second from the front. |
I got to ride in the limo to the cemetery with my Mom and siblings. We were filled with a buoyant feeling as we all took a deep breath together. We had done it. It was amazing. We were squeezed in tight, but we clung to each other in love.
We had a bagpipe player at the cemetery. Dad would have loved it! He played a soulful song as the men marched up to the plot with the casket. JB dedicated the grave with the most sacred, beautiful prayer. And then as the bagpipe player played "Amazing Grace" in the background, each of us laid a single flower on the casket. We all said our goodbyes and it was over.
 |
| Dad would have loved the bagpipes. |
 |
| Rindi and Mom |
 |
| Rindi, Sunee, Mom, Millie, Katie... So glad to have each other! |
 |
| Miles |
 |
| Owen |
 |
| Austin |
 |
| Emma |
 |
| Julia |
 |
| Lance |
 |
| Rindi |
 |
| Greg |
 |
| We love you, Dad! |
 |
| Our last family picture...all together. JB, Katie, Millie, Stalee, Judi, Mom, Rindi, Sunee, Joni |
 |
| With our spouses... |
 |
| I'm so sorry, Mom. I love you so much. |
 |
| I love my little family. |
We rode back to the church in the limo, where the ward provided a delicious lunch. We are so grateful.
Back at home, we relaxed while the kids played their hearts out. Then my dear Greg went and picked up Tony's Pizza for the ENTIRE family. He bought 15 pizzas, tons of their famous salad, and loads of garlic bread. Dad loved Tony's pizza. It was so much fun to sit around and eat it together.
We ended the day with some of the adults together out in Mom's house. We marveled that we had made it through. Mom's house smells like a florist's shop. I think we are all going to be okay. So many told us how amazing the funeral was. My great aunt, Ruth, who is 90, grabbed my hand and told me it was the best funeral she had EVER been to. When I tried to laugh that off, she squeezed tightly on my hand, looked me sternly in the eye, and said, "Listen, I've been around the block a time or two. That was the best funeral EVER." I smiled. I guess she would know.
I'm including a copy of my talk. And a note to my Dad: Dad, I know you loved this blog. I know you loved to read my words. Since I started this at the beginning of the year, you have been one of the few people who have read every entry. We never made it to the end of the year together--something I could have never dreamed would be a reality--but I will keep writing. Maybe somehow you will still know my heart. I love you, dear dad, you will always be close in my heart. Until we meet again!
My Talk for Dad’s Funeral
By Rindi Haws Jacobsen
September 23, 2017
For many years, whenever one of us eight children would call the house and dad would answer the phone, we would say, “Hi Dad! Is Mom there?” It started a long-standing joke with our Dad that maybe we didn’t need him like we need our Mom.
But that’s just not true.
Our Dad left us a little note in his “What To Do If I Die” book… and he promised us that if he could, he would attend his funeral today. I sure hope you are here, Dad. I want you to know how much I’ve needed you, how much I still need you, and how I will always need you to be my Dad.
One day when my small family was living in Pennsylvania, I received a random card in the mail from my dad. I quickly tore it open, excited to see his familiar writing looking back at me. Inside was a 500-dollar gift card to Wal-Mart and a little note telling me to go buy whatever I wanted, with love, Dad. I sat right down on the ground and cried. That was a fortune for me and my small family, and we used it well, but I cried that day because my Dad thought of ME. He made me feel special and loved. And he was always looking out for ME.
Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve wanted to be a runner. So I would practice. One day in fourth grade, my dad told me that if I could beat him in a race, he would buy me my own running shoes. So with the neighborhood kids watching, Dad and I raced along the road, the wind whipping my blonde hair. I was fast. And young. But he was too. I’ve never asked him how I won that day. All I know is that I loved going with my dad and getting my own running shoes. I like to think Dad loved buying them for me too. Dad was always there to let me know that my dreams were within reach, he believed in me, and I could do anything I set my mind to.
Our Dad was so much fun. My childhood is literally filled with fun memories with my dad. From the time he came home and said, “Let’s go to Disneyland..TODAY!” to the times he woke up with the sunrise at Lake Powell to take us skiing. He brought us gifts every single valentine’s day, he sang to us in the mornings, kissing all eight of us on the head before he breezed out the door for work. He loved us and played with us and cheered for us. He taught us and prayed for us and gave us father’s blessings. And he LOVED our kids. It truly is “always fun when Grandpa comes!”
One time when I was a student at BYU, I was having a really discouraged day. He drove all the way down to Provo, sat with me on a park bench for a while to cheer me up, then hugged and kissed me, and drove all the way back home. Now that I think of that, I have no idea what he was supposed to be doing that day, but I do know that he took the time for me. I’m so grateful for that.
I loved the way my Dad was so tall that even though I am tall too, I could rest my head against his chest, and he’d wrap his long arms all the way around me. I always felt safe in the arms of my dad. I needed that.
At some point, Dad started to make me feel like he needed me too. He would send me things he had written, and I would pour over his writing, editing and critiquing and just soaking up his words. I felt like his writing partner, and in fact, one of the last text messages to me came after he read something that I wrote. The message said, “Rindi. Keep writing. I feel so close to you when I read your words.” I feel the same way about you, Dad. We also shared a Kindle account, reading the same books and talking them over. We called ourselves Kindle Buddies. I loved that. I absolutely adored the way my Dad’s mind worked. He was a deep thinker and the most interesting person to talk to. I love to talk, so I cherish my memories of long talks with my dad. We confided in each other, encouraged each other, and loved each other.
I didn’t just lose my dad this week. I lost my friend.
So yes, Dad. I needed you. I’ve needed you all along.
One of the most beautiful parts of our Heavenly Father’s plan is that we came to this earth to be part of a family. And because of our Savior, Jesus Christ, we can be with our families for eternity.
I will miss my dad immensely. But I KNOW that Gospel of Jesus Christ is real. And Dad knew it too. One of Dad’s final wishes was that we would remember his faith and testimony—his conviction of our Savior.
How blessed I am to have such a faithful Dad, such a strong link in my family chain! I will do all that I can be a strong link too. To quote a well-known hymn: My heart is full; mine eyes are wet, Oh, help me Lord, lest I forget.
I love my Savior, Jesus Christ. Because of Him, my dad lives on. Because of Him, we can all be together again. I know it. I really know it. The night our Dad left his mortal life, we knelt as a family in prayer. The spirit was sweet and comforting. And I look forward to the day when we will all kneel as a family once again.
Until then, I will read and write and run and live and laugh and work and play. Just like Dad would want me to.
And now when I call home, I can ask for Dad. And I know he’ll always be there.
In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
 |
| I love you, Dad. |
No comments:
Post a Comment