MAKING PEACE

My trip to NY went well as seeing the family, cousins, and old friends was comforting to me. My mothers’ wedding was very modest with mostly family and a few friends attended in the small chapel just on the outskirts of town. I was asked to walk her down the isle to give her away to her new soon to be companion.

As the day approached I had uncertainties of being able to walk down the isle to present my mother to another man. While my reasons for apprehension were totally mine I could not explain them in words to anyone. Although she had been dating him for over 16 years I still felt that something was not right. Would I have the strenght and stamina to walk it with her?

The day arrived and all were seated in the chapel. It was now my time to be strong for her and myself. Music playing in the background we proceded our wedding march towards the reverend and all in attendance that were about to bare witness.
While walking my mother held my arm as we made our slow approach to the alter, she gripped me very tight as my walk had become very weak. “Could anyone see? Could they tell how weak I am?” I thought as we passed by so many. I did not want to let my mother down on “her” day. I could feel her help stable me as I started to lose my balance during the last few paces. Just like I was a child learning to walk for the first time there she was to hold me up and steady me. Her eyes saying everything “it’s all right son I am here for you”.

The ceremony proceeded and before I new it the question was asked, “who gives this woman to be wed?" Glancing at my sister Brandee, standing for mother’s maid of honor, with the look of disbelief that mom was going to marry another man. She smiled and I knew that my response had to be “our family” because she was just a part of our mother as I. Reaching for the grooms hand to place into my mothers I gripped it firmly to stand strong and place it into my mothers awaiting palm. At that moment my heart felt pain. Not because I didn’t want my mother to re-marry, but the feeling of loss for my father. It was like he had just died all over again.

The sensation of loss still in my heart the wedding was over. My aunt and I departed for the reception hall I asked if it would be all right if she would stop by the cemetery where my father was. I told her I needed to see the place where he was buried, as the last time I was there; there was snow and no headstone. She agreed. Driving thru the burial grounds she asked “are you sure I want to do this”. I replied despondently “yes I need to.”

We rounded the corner as aunt “Winnie” pointed out his headstone. Stopping to let me out I walked to face the writing and was taken aback by the color of the granite. It was a beautiful salmon color with speckles that glistened in the sun that was directly behind me shining onto the engraved face that read (Sanford “Sandy” L. Nickerson May 14, 1944 – Feb 29, 2008) with the Masons symbol embossed on the bottom. Being very careful not to disrespect him I stood to the side as I made my peace with my father. I let the things from my past go and felt the washing of healing flood my soul.

Looking to the car to see if my aunt was coming to stand with me I saw her sitting there crying as I new she too respected my time and what I must be doing. The sun was setting. Looking down my silhouette now covered the headstone, as I gazed at his name I realized that I now shadowed him. I did not want to appear weak and fragile while I stood hoping that he would be proud of me. Today MS does not have me!!!

At my father’s funeral the pastor spoke about our lives having more meaning than the dash ( - ) between the day we are born and the day we die. The lives we impact and friends we make along the way make up the dash. I hope I have a long dash between mine.

Thanks friends for letting me share my moments with you.

Derek Lee

“You can close your eyes to what you don’t want to see, but you can’t close your heart to what you don’t want to feel!” Aunt “Fred’s” bench.