Well meaning

People in general really do want to say the right thing and do the right thing.  I really believe that!  And, I've said before, people will step up to love you and care for you when you really need to be loved!  I've seen this in action in the last seven weeks

What I also see is that now that it's been SEVEN WHOLE WEEKS, people are expecting something different when they deal with us.  Generally people who have lost their spouse or parent don't say anything but people who have maybe never dealt with this have rather high expectations when talking to us (My Mom, siblings) about "moving on". 

I think my Mom has heard the worst of it from others.  She's been told to "just cheer up" and to "take a walk" when she feels sad.  Her boss actually asked her if it's really that hard.  Umm, yeah, it's really that hard.  The boss aside, most people are well meaning, they just don't get it. There is no way or reason to explain it really.  When you lose someone you love it hurts.  Sometimes that hurt goes on for a while.  Some people are better equipped to deal with the pain than others. 

My Mom and I have said several times that now we know how it feels and it will change how we react to others when they go through this.  There is no way to prepare yourself for something that hurts so much and there is no way to explain to other people how deep the pain is.  It's another of life's frustrations. 

Bittersweet

Around 11 a.m. this morning my Brother called to tell me his wife is going to the hospital to be admitted and then induced.  She'll have the baby today.  It's an amazing moment for our family.  Grandchild number 8 will be here for us to love and to be a part of the family we all treasure. 

It's hard not to remember that my Dad is missing this.  He absolutely adored each one of his grandchildren.  I like to say that my parents came alive when my niece was born (almost) nineteen years ago!  Because they had children so young and life was at times a bit of a struggle, sometimes the joy of parenting was lost.  But with their grandchildren there was no joy lost for them ever.  They doted on them from the moment they were born.  In my eulogy I mention that my Dad loved our kids as much as we did! 

I know that he would be pacing the hospital floor right now.  He'd be on the phone giving updates and begging my brother to let him help in someway.  He was at the hospital for almost all of the births of his grandchildren and this would be no different.  I know that he is with us in spirit and although I'm not ready to accept that he'll only ever be here in spirit, I have to accept it today. 

So we wait for word from my brother that the baby is coming soon and we anticipate how are family will change... for the better!  Today is bittersweet but definitely more sweet than bitter!

Road trip!

Chris and I brought Christian to Albuquerque this weekend for a short getaway.  We both like to try get out of town as often as possible and I've been really looking for a reason to escape for a bit now!  We arrived in ABQ and I felt a bit out of sorts.  I kept feeling like there was something I was supposed to be doing.  Then I thought about what it was... I needed to call my Dad. 

Ever since I started traveling I have been calling my Dad right before and immediately after my trips.  I did this even when we lived in PA.  I'd call him a day or two before we headed out of town to let him know we were going.  He'd remember that we had a trip planned and ask me what our plans were, where we were staying and when we'd be back. He always ended the conversation the same way.  "Have fun and be careful".  ALWAYS!!  Sometimes he'd also have tidbits about the place we were going.  If he'd been there before he'd tell me about a restaurant, tour or bar we had to try.  If he hadn't he would tell me what he'd heard about that place. 

He'd also share with me what the weather was supposed to be like in the city we were traveling to and the city we were leaving.  He'd remind me to take a coat, a hat or an umbrella and to be glad we were going because a heat wave was coming and we'd miss it!  He was fascinated with weather.  While I lived in PA he would keep track of the weather in Scranton for me too.  He'd send me e-mails to let me know what the weather was going to be like in the next week and if snow/ice was expected that I should be careful on the roads.  Sorry... I digress.  

I would also call my Dad upon my return to let him know we'd made it home safe.  He'd ask how our trip was.  Did we try such and such or go to this place or the other.  Always interested in what we'd done.  He'd tell me he was glad I had fun and glad I was home safe.  Then he'd tell me what I'd missed while I was gone.  He'd fill me in on family happenings and the state of affairs in the news.  It wasn't as if I'd ever traveled somewhere I couldn't get the news but he filled me in nonetheless!!

So, it feels weird to be here now, on this first trip I've taken since he died, and not have had that conversation.  I know I won't have the welcome home conversation either.  My Dad was great at this stuff.  He was so plugged in to our lives.  His presence was a given.  I wouldn't say I took it for granted.  I just always thought it would be there.  I recognize that seems like the same thing but I see it as just a comfort in knowing he'd be there.  Or hoping.  Or needing! 

What now?

The funeral is over, everyone is back to work and their own lives and we are left to flounder.  We attempt to busy ourselves with things that absolutely have to be done and then things that just keep our minds off of our troubles.  It's never really enough though.  Even with all of the activity the pain is still there. 

Today it's been a month since he died. All day I kept looking at the clock.  "One month ago my Dad was alive".  By the end of the day I had to guess.  Was he alive at 2:30 or 3:00.  Surely not alive at 4:30 but maybe?  It was a cruel game I couldn't stop playing.   I tried to tell myself to stop.  Tried to keep my mind busy but wouldn't you know, the slowest day at work was TODAY! 

 I wonder how long this will go one?  How long will I play those tricks with my mind?  I often wonder if there was something that could have been done to change the course of events.  If I'd called him right before he died, would be still be here?  If I'd asked him to come out to the house to help us fix something, would that have tripped his fate?  If, if and if.  My least favorite word and my least favorite thoughts. 

Miss me... but let me go

My nephew Kaden read this poem at my Dad's funeral.  He was amazingly brave and strong and I was so proud of him...

Let Me Go

When I come to the end of the road
And the sun has set for me
I want no rites in a gloom filled room
Why cry for a soul set free?
Miss me a little, but not for long
And not with your head bowed low
Remember the love that once we shared
Miss me, but let me go.
For this is a journey we all must take
And each must go alone.
It's all part of the master plan
A step on the road to home.
When you are lonely and sick at heart
Go the friends we know.
Laugh at all the things we used to do
Miss me, but let me go.

When I am dead my dearest
Sing no sad songs for me
Plant thou no roses at my head
Nor shady cypress tree
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet
And if thou wilt remember
And if thou wilt, forget.

I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not fear the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on as if in pain;
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget.

The funeral

My Dad died on a Saturday but we didn't do his funeral until Thursday.  This was hard for my Mom but Wednesday was his birthday and none of us wanted to have his funeral on his birthday.  So... we waited until Thursday.  

We made the decision to have him cremated but we wanted to have a viewing as a part of the service and luckily we were able to do that.  We also wanted to do a service late enough in the afternoon so people wouldn't be inconvenienced with it being a work day.  Lastly, we wanted to have a lot of say in the service itself.  We wanted to pick the readings, pick eulogists and have our own music.  We were able to do all of that.

My Dad raised us all Catholic but he was not Catholic, having never converted even after having been married in the church.  Many times during his life he had talked about wanting to possibly be baptized but he never did it.  In the last ten years or so he lost interest in that and his desires changed.  Not a one of us pushed him or made him feel like he had to do that but it did make it interesting when thinking about how we would do his service.  A Catholic priest will not come to a funeral home to perform a service for a non Catholic person.  A deacon will come, but not a priest  My sister in law is a teacher at an Episcopalian school and the priest at that school very graciously offered to perform the service for us.

The day of the funeral I felt very out of sorts.  I was so anxious and felt like I was going to jump out of my skin.  As much as I wanted it to be OVER already, I wasn't prepared for it all to end.  I'm sure that makes sense to those of you who have been through something like this and to the rest of you I am sure it's confusing and backwards!  This being over would only mean he was really gone and not coming back.  I wasn't sure I could deal with that.  I'm still not sure I can deal with that to be honest.

My husband and I picked my Mom up to bring her with us to the funeral home.  She was, obviously, very nervous and upset.  It was like a comedy all of us trying to soothe and comfort the other when we were so upset too!  As we got into the car my Mom said "I don't want to do this".  All I could do was cry and agree.  i don't want to either.  I really don't.

Arriving at the funeral home my stomach was in knots.  Lying in a coffin, behind those doors was my Father.  A site I never thought I would see like this and a site I had no desire to see today.  My Mom made it clear to my siblings and I that she wanted us all to be with my Dad in the chapel during the entire service.  She wanted us to greet people in the chapel and stand together.  We agreed we would not leave him, or her, for the entire service.  We had all agreed to show up 30 minutes prior to the viewing to have some time alone and to prepare for the service.

As we walked into the chapel I could see him.  My Father.  Lying in a coffin.  Looking so very much like he always did.  I'm not sure if that is a good or a bad thing.  I wanted him to "look like him" but it was so hard because I wanted to scream and shout at him to get the FUCK UP!!  Sorry.  I just was shocked in seeing him there that he was gone.  The shock of it all hits me to this day.  It's not easy.

We began to accept people into the chapel at 4 p.m. and were so glad to see so many people come to say goodbye to my Dad and to comfort those of us he left behind.  My Mom was heartbroken and had such a difficult time in standing with us.  While she made such a deal about us all being together, she couldn't handle it.  I have to say, it was my pleasure to do this for my Mom.  I wanted nothing more than for her to be OK and didn't want her to force herself to do anything she couldn't do.

During the service we had lovely music with songs my Dad enjoyed hearing when we went to Mass.  We chose readings that we thought really spoke to how we felt and how my Dad would have felt if he had been there with us.  My nephew Kaden read one of the readings and did such an amazing job.  He cried through the whole thing (as did the rest of us) but he pushed through and I just know he made his Grandpa so proud of him!  My Uncle Rick, with whom my Dad was so close, read the other reading.  My niece and I each did a eulogy which was so important to both of us.  We are so much alike and my Dad would have loved what we had to say.

At the end of the service, my Brother had planned to say a few words and thank everyone for coming.  My Mom actually stood up at the end and said she felt like she had to speak and had to let everyone know how much she loved my Dad.  She was shaking and visibly upset but she really was able to express her feelings for my Dad.  I don't think any of us thought she would/could speak but we were so proud of her for telling everyone that he was the love of her life and that she was devastated to have lost him.

The act of saying goodbye was both beautiful and heartbreaking.  It was lovely and lousy.  We all wanted to get across what a wonderful man he was but more than anything we wanted it to be a dream.  Wanted it to be a joke.  It clearly was not.  When we left the funeral home that evening I felt like I was leaving my Father behind.  I felt like we were leaving him there all alone and that made my heart hurt like it never did before.  I just miss him more than I thought possible.  I love him as much as I always did.

Happy Birthday Dad...

Four days after my Dad died, he would have turned 60.  Yeah, that sucks... right?  SIXTY!! Too young to die... well, that's not the point of the post.  We struggled with how to "celebrate" what would have been such a momentous day in his life.  Truth be told, we had been planning a big surprise party for both my Dad and my brother, who would turn 40 just a week after my Dad's 60th!  Those plans were, obviously, scrapped. 

We decided the best way to honor my Dad on his birthday was to be together. We invited my Uncle Ken and Aunt Cheryl and called our favorite Mexican food restaurant.  Ever since my childhood, Manuel's has been our restaurant of choice. We ate there weekly during my childhood and it was my Dad's favorite restaurant.  Really, it was the only place he liked to eat. 

It's not easy (or fun) to celebrate the birthday of someone who doesn't show up at the party... and even harder when he can't. I think we just really wanted to be together and didn't want to let the day just go by. We also wanted a moment of peace before the funeral which was planned for the next day.  We enjoyed dinner as much as we could, focusing mostly on the kids and visiting with Uncle Ken and Aunt Cheryl.  We all knew who was missing but we didn't talk about it much.

After dinner the three of us "kids" and our families met at my Brother's house to preview the video my cousin Lindsey (very graciously) offered to create for us of pictures of my Dad.  It was a fitting night to watch the video.  It was beautiful and we all were speechless as we watched the images of our Dad/Grandpa flash across the screen.  Lindsey couldn't have done it any better!! 

It was a tough day and we all knew the days to come wouldn't get any easier. 

The dreaded details

We started to discuss what my Dad would want us to do as far as "arrangements" pretty early on.  I had heard him say over the course of my life on many occasions that he wanted to be cremated.  I am not a fan of cremation.  As if you could be a fan, but anyway... I really wouldn't choose this for myself but wanted so much to do what my Dad wanted.  My Mom swore she could never remember him saying that.  I think she was not in the place to make a decision.

We contacted the funeral home to set up an appointment and during the time between his death and our appointments, we discussed the details ad nauseum.    I made it clear that it was really my Mom's choice.  He was her partner and while I felt strongly about cremation, I wanted her to make the final decision.  I think she was too grief stricken to really give any of it much thought for much time. 

We met with the funeral home two days after my Dad died.  We had many discussions about what we wanted, what we needed and what would really happen.  We knew that this was our opportunity to honor my Dad and his place in our lives.  I had no idea how hard it would be to feel like we were doing that.

There are so many choices to make at this time and they all seem so important.  Are they?  Probably not but boy can it be easy to get caught up.  It's almost like planning a wedding but not as exciting or joyous.  To say the least!! 

We were lucky to have my Dad's brother and his wife with us.  Uncle Ken and Aunt Cheryl had been with us from Saturday night.  Offering to help but insisting they didn't want to step on our toes.  There was surely no toe stepping going on.  We all needed help and we needed the two of them specifically.  My Dad's family is not close.  My Mom's family was his.  It was nice to see, in his death, he would be honored by his blood. 

After we met with the funeral home we went right over to the church to meet with the priest who would be performing(?) the funeral service.  This meeting was less emotional but we were still as adamant about our desires for the service.  We just had to get it right.

When we got into the car to leave the church, I felt relieved. As if on cue my brother said, "Well, we got through it".   I can tell you I sure didn't think we would.  But... what's the option??

Dreams...

Beginning the night my Dad died, I begged him every night before I fell asleep to come to me in a dream to tell me he was OK or that he loved me.  Or both!!  I recognize that not being able to let go of my despair and need to know he is OK probably hinders this whole plan but I can't help myself. 

I have had two dreams in the last three weeks about my Dad.  I'm not sure I believe that either dream was anything more than a dream but it was still nice to interact with him, just a little bit.  The funny thing is, I thought having a dream about him would make me feel lighter but it actually made me feel sad.  I just can't be pleased. 

I think what I really want is my Dad.  Back.  In my life.  Alive.  Well.  That's not going to happen and that sucks! 

Saying those words...

My Dad is dead. My Dad passed away. My Dad is gone. There is no easy way to say what needs to be said. No easy way to pass on the news that I don't even really want to share. The other side of that is, I don't want to hold on to the news. I want people to know and I absolutely need the power of prayer and collective positive thought to help me get through.

In addition, my Mom has a list of people she wants called and some of those calls are just downright painful. The first call I made was to my Mom's friend Sharon. She's been my Mom's friend for most of her marriage. Sharon and Mike are very good friends with my parents. They have four kids who are like cousins to us. When I called Sharon, telling her was so painful. She couldn't finish the conversation and had to put her daughter on the line. I knew I was hurting both of them telling them what happened and I hated that.

The hard part about learning how to share about what happened and about my Dad is how to speak ABOUT him. Even today, I can't talk about him in the past tense. It's really hard if I'm saying something about my Mom AND Dad. How do I talk about THEM in the past tense? I mean, they are in the past tense. My Mom is here and my Dad is not. For me, they will always be a they. My parents were married for forty years. That's a long time. It's hard for me to see them as separate people. If it's this hard for me, I can't even imagine how hard it is for my Mom.