Dad

It took me awhile to be able to write this, but today's blog is yesterday's therapeutic journal.

On April 2nd, my Dad died. I had gone to work that morning, it was a regular routine day for me and I had just finished making my morning espresso when my cell phone rang and I saw it was one of my sisters. My heart did that little jump thing it does when your phone rings at 2am, like you know something is wrong. It isn't very common for them to call me, much less during the day like that so I was scared. When I answered, it was Pam and she sounded funny, she told me my Dad was sick and that she was going to put mom on the phone. Mom got on and I could hear in her trying to be tough voice that she was scared and I needed to come home.

I had to interrupt my boss from a meeting, but told her I needed to leave right now because my Dad was in the hospital and I wasn't sure what it all meant. She understood the urgency and told me to go, somewhere in there I got ahold of Lance and told him what I knew and that I was going home to pack and hit the road. We met up at home, packed up random things, dropped the dogs off at the spa and were on the road. I called mom back to let her know we were on our way and to try and see what was happening. She told me that Dad was 911'd in to the hospital last night because collapsed and she couldn't get him back up, they found he had a really high temperature and that they think his appendix had burst and so his other organs were beginning to fail and shut down. The doctors had told her surgery wasn't an option because he wouldn't be able to withstand it, so for now they were keeping him comfortable. Well, I knew what that meant, we needed to hurry and there was a chance we wouldn't get there in time. I asked her if she wanted me to call anyone for her that should be called, and she asked that I let Theresa know.

Just to recap a little, Dad had three kids from a previous marriage (Theresa, Mike, and Paul) and Mom had three kids from a previous marriage (Pam, James, and Karen), then they got together and had me. Theresa and Mike moved out East and while Theresa had contact with Mom and Dad, I don't know that Mike did and I know for certain Paul never did. So, for me to call Theresa was a big thing, I had no idea how to get ahold of her, especially during the daytime when she'd be at work. I called Lance's mom for help, I told her I knew Theresa worked with her husband in a business they owned and a couple towns near their home I thought it might be in. Thanks to google, she found them and I got ahold of them. I can't even remember how many years its been since I talked to Theresa and to call her with this news was beyond sad on many levels.

We made the 300 mile drive in record time, Lance was averaging 90 most of the way, but when we got there and I called Pam to tell me where to go at the hospital, something told me we didn't make it. Pam and Karen met me in the lobby to take me up and told me then, that Dad had passed away about 20 minutes ago. I had prepared myself for that, telling myself that Dad was already surrounded by alot of family and that if I didn't get there in time, it would be okay. We went up to the room and it was so sad, so final. We stayed there for just a few minutes more and then went straight to the funeral home to begin arrangements.

The days following and leading up to the funeral were just a whirlwind and a blur, surrounded by people, taking care of all the arrangements, it seemed to go by quickly, but at the same time, it seemed to go on forever. Pam and Karen and I went through photo albums to pull out pictures and make those photo boards that people do at funerals. Personally, I really like the photo board thing, it gives you a candid look at various times in that person's life. Looking through all the photos brought back all sorts of memories, and hearing both Pam and Karen tell me how much my Dad loved me and doted on me when I was little, made me remember times I hadn't thought about in a long time. I was a Daddy's girl, through and through, he took me everywhere and I did so many things with him. I'm pretty sure he got me anything I wanted, one day he came home with a piano because I wanted one. Another day, he came home with a horse, because every little girl wants a pony. Though, the pony, I did save my pennies for and I remember very clearly, ME buying the horse with my pennies. I'm sure though, it was probably, like a couple dollars of pennies, but that didn't matter. I remember alot of fishing trips with Dad, and I had my very own pole. Again, I know now, that he took me to a stocked pond so I'd be sure to catch something, but it was the bonding time that mattered.

When I was 10, Dad got sick. We've all always referred to it as 'got sick', nobody really knows what it was. Dad developed some kind of mysterious brain illness that no doctor was able to identify and so couldn't treat and make go away. He became a very different Dad than the one I grew up with and became stuck in the past. As I aged through the years, it would confuse him to see me, because to him, I was supposed to still be 10 - the age I was when he got sick. I don't know how Mom did it, she found the strength and the courage to stand by him and care for him all these years. He wouldn't often talk, but if you asked him a question, he would answer. There were a couple times a year when it seemed like he would break through the cloud surrounding him and the old Dad would come out and he'd be his old-self, wise-cracking and just being silly.

Mom was very strong through all those years, so it wasn't surprising to me that she continued to be strong for the funeral preparations. It meant alot to me that she asked for my input on so many things and added in the little things I really wanted. Dad was a Catholic and became more active in religion when I was about 8, I remember him taking me to mass with him and teaching me the differences between Catholic and Lutheran. It was important to me that he have his St. Christopher in his pocket in the casket. The funeral was hard, as all funerals are. But loosing a parent is really hard. It meant so much to me to see all of his friends from the old days come. Most of those people I hadn't seen since I was like 10, but I remembered all their faces and can remember our families all hanging out together. Good times.

Theresa came back for the funeral. Inside, I knew she would, and I also knew that neither Mike nor Paul would come for it. Like they always say, it is great to see all these people, but not under these circumstances. I did get to spend some time with Theresa and her husband Wayne, which I really did appreciate. Lance and I have been married now for almost 7 years and this was the first time they got to meet. When I was in my teens, I went out to stay with Wayne and Theresa a few times on my Spring Breaks and I always looked forward to that and thoroughly enjoyed my time with them. Seeings how we have the same Dad, it seems we should know more about one another and see each other more, but that isn't how it is. Maybe someday that will change. I think Dad would want me to try again and reach out to them.

With Dad's kids for the most part, out of the picture, he took Mom's kids on as his own. Pam and Karen treated him like a real Dad, not like a step-dad and I'm sure he really loved that. I think Dad's dying was as hard for Pam and Karen as it was for me, he was a Dad to us all.

I'm grateful I had such a loving Dad and I'm grateful to have had him for as long as I did. While he was different in my later years, he was still my Dad. I will miss him, but I will also always have my memories of how much he loved me.