87 years, 10 months, and 12 days

We buried Daddy on the 26th of April, nearly three weeks ago. I apologize for not keeping the extended family up to date during this time, but I simply could not write. I sat here day after day trying, and could not, possibly because writing about it confirms that it really happened, and that is still difficult for me to accept. I will try again now, because of the many phone calls and emails giving such beautiful tribute to a long and well-lived Life journey. These stories deserve to be shared. But first I must tell of that day, the 26th of April:

The gathering to celebrate Dad's life was moving and beautiful. Robin and Sherry choreographed most of it, and the tributes reminisced upon a life full of adventure and honor. David (Tate) put together a wonderful photographic scrapbook showing some of the highlights of Dad's life, with some of his favorite music - Dixieland jazz - playing in the background. Letters from loved ones in Israel who could not be here in person were read. I will try to get copies of them and post them in this blog. People who had just recently come into Dad's life were there, as well as friends from many decades ago. There were flowers, phone calls and emails from people who knew Dad when he attended Brother Dixon's church in California in the 1950s, and neighbors attended the gathering who had just recently come to know Dad and loved him like a surrogate father. People Mom hadn't seen since the days of the B'nai Shalom Tabernacle of Peace in south Phoenix attended to lend her their support. And family from all over were hugging, crying, comforting one another at the loss of this great family patriarch.

After the Life Celebration gathering, the pallbearers loaded the casket onto the hearse and we proceeded to the National Memorial Cemetery in Phoenix. Pallbearers were David Tate, Jimmy Walker, Jerry Dion, Jonathan Tate, Jason Whetstone, Gary Whetstone, Mark Tate, and Randy Walker.

At the cemetery, the American Legion Commander led us in prayer and we listened to a moving rendition of Taps. When the Honor Guard let fly the first shots of the three-gun salute, it felt symbolic of how our hearts were shattered. Nine rifle volleys in all were given in honor of Dad's contribution to his country's safety, and then the flag which had been draped over the coffin was carefully and ceremoniously folded and presented by the Commander of the Honor Guard to Mom. The leader of the Honor Guard carefully put the empty rifle shells into the folds of the folded flag.

After the military ceremony, Sherry recited Kaddish for Dad in both English and Hebrew, and then Jerry helped her rend her garment as a mark of separation, to symbolize a broken heart. It was indeed a day all our hearts were broken as we bade farewell to our husband, father, brother, uncle, grandfather, neighbor and friend. Thomas Marion Tate lived 87 years, 10 months and 12 days; not nearly long enough if you ask any who knew and loved him.