June 5, 2010 -- One Year Later

Yesterday was the one year anniversary (is that the right word??) of my dad's death. It is interesting to think his journey ended last year at this time. My day started off with a phone call from my mother -- who is spending time in West Virginia now -- reminding me of the date. She had a call from one of my dad's cousins reminding her of the day. What a fucking nut job -- who calls the widow on the day of her husbands death to say "HEY, don't forget what happened last year at this time". This is yet another reason I don't really care if I ever talk to most of that side of the family again. What's wrong with these people?

The second thing I had to do on Friday was read an email from a member of my team at work. This woman reports to me -- she's a single mother of two who is such a strong person and has a great family support system. She lives with her mother who helps take care of the kids while she works. The email told me her mother had died a few hours earlier. Interestingly enough, she died 12 hours before my dad did (3am on June 4). She and I had joked (gallows humor) about how fucked up it would be for our parents to have died on the same day -- it is fucked up a bit.

I stayed in last night and did some work around the house and spent about an hour looking at photo albums. I called my mom again, to see how she was doing. I think she feels bad that she didn't spend all day crying. She sometimes has this idea of what a widow should do and when she doesn't conform to that rigid concept she is mad at herself. Live your own life -- be your own person.

I too had an equivalent thought yesterday. Why am I not more sad? Does that mean I don't care? Does that mean I'm done? Does that just mean that anniversaries really don't mean anything? Does it mean anything it all?

July 17, 2009 -- Closing the House

We are close to closing out a chapter in our lives. My parents' home is set to close on Tuesday. The movers came today. I think we have about 2 hours of work left in the house, then we are done. I figured this whole process would be much harder. I don't feel anything. It is just a group of tasks.

It seems like he has been gone forever, not just 6 weeks. Seriously, it seems like he died when I was a little kid. I wonder if that's a good thing or a bad thing. I wonder if it is because we weren't very close. I wonder if he and I ever really talked if I would feel differently (re: feel anything/something). I wonder why I feel like I should feel something that I don't.

July 12, 2009 -- Cleaning the House

We are getting close to the close date on the Oregon house. My mom is in PDX now dealing with the movers and the furniture donations, the title company and the banks. I am enjoying my time in my condo alone. The first time since I bought the place 2.5 months ago. It's great to have some quiet time.

As my mom is out, I decided to collect and donate my dad's clothes. I checked with my mom of course -- needed to make sure she was ready for it. I grabbed a bag and headed up to his closet. I opened the door and saw about a dozen pairs of jeans, 15 T-shirts (varying shades of blue and grey) half a dozen pairs of flannel pajama sets and 2 springy/summery short sleeve button up shirts. One of these shirts he wore 2 years ago when he and my mom had their professional photos taken. This was the only hard part of the closet. He bought those shirts for a trip to Chicago, that he had to cancel because of his illness. I remember him in that shirt, not in his casket suit, not in his flannel pajamas. I think I remember him in that shirt because he looked happy in that picture -- and I really don't remember him being happy throughout life. He was always working or hanging out watching TV. He wasn't an unhappy person, I don't think.

I donated one bag of clothes, still need to donate the pajamas, the socks and other underwear things -- only the new socks and underwear -- otherwise that's just gross. I'll do that tomorrow. My goal is to get all his stuff donated before my mom comes home next week.

June 21, 2009 -- Happy Fathers Day

Today is the first Father's Day without my dad (technically we've spent many Father's Days apart, but you get my meaning). We've been doing pretty well. It seems like he died quite a while ago. Quite honestly, I forgot it was Father's Day until JM sent a text reminding me.

We still have a large list of things to do, relating to his death. We are finalizing many things still -removing names from bank accounts and assets, filling out life insurance claim forms, dealing with the union regarding the denied life insurance claim from his employer. The union has really stepped up and helped us. I am sure there is going to be a long fight but the union says they will fight because if they give this up the Company will continue to steal from the union throughout time. Fingers crossed.

We've also started getting phone calls from long lost cousins (most of which we have heard from at least once during my dads illness, but before that not in years). They are telling us how times are difficult for them right now and how they don't hardly have enough money for their bills. "$1,000 would really change our lives right now.". Nice. As far as I know, my mom hasn't been asked for money...yet. Vultures.

June 15, 2009 -- Back to Work

Today I return to the office. I have been in the office for a full day of work since Tuesday June 2 (worked from home on the 3rd and left early on the 4th and spent 20 minutes dropping things off on the 5th).

I am looking forward to returning to normalcy, although I am not sure what normal is any more. It has been so long since the illness hasn't been a part of our everyday lives, always with the nagging questions-"is he ok? Will tomorrow be better?"

Since our return on Friday I have been trying to think of the things that filled my life before he got sick. What did I do? How did I fill my days, hell, I am even trying to think back on just 8 weeks ago, before they moved to Chicago.

I am meeting with my coach this week, and I am sure this will be discussed to. I have a few things that I want to do in no particular order:

* Learn to golf
* Take more cooking classes
* Take a photography class
* Learn a foreign language (Spanish, Italian, Arabic, German)
* Travel to new places [to Quebec, non-urban Spain, Tuscany, Alaska (to see perpetual daylight, not perpetual night)]

Let's see what today brings.

June 10, 2009 -- The Funeral

Today was my fathers funeral. We awoke early and chatted for a while. I put on my new suit for a second day in a row, new shirt and tie though. My mom accidentally pulled a button off of her suit pants, so the neighbor, Judy came over to help her.

Judy does not handle funerals or death well. She looked very rough today.

Judy and her friend, along with CUT were to meet us at the funeral home to go to the cemetery together. I looked out the window, once I returned from fueling the jeep and I saw CUT parked out side. He finally made his way to the house. He looked nice. He wore a new blue blazer he bought at Penneys yesterday and a nice spring shirt. We left for the funeral home around 9am.

When we drove up to the home, we saw the hearse door open. I believe they were loading my father inside. I did not want to watch. We did not do a real funeral procession. It was too far to the cemetery.

We arrived at the cemetery at 1040am. Uncle Duane (dads brother) was there with Uncle Ed and Aunt Betty (my grandpas brother and wife). CUT pulled in behind us. I see BH (a friend from Linfield) hiding under an umbrella. A friend of hers dropped her off. I was not expecting to see her, it was a very pleasant surprise. EAD pulled in shortly after that. I am happy he was here with me yesterday and today. JLPB & JB (friends from High School that I try to see every time I am in town) arrived before the rest of us. L(M)P (another friend from Linfield) was there too. It was good to see her. We were really good friends in college, but over the years we drifted apart. She is married now and looks fantastic.

My cousin Corrina was there, sans baby though...whew. My moms friends Dennis and Ginny from Salem were the first to arrive. My grandpas brother, Kelly, joined us. Kellys wife, Shirley passed away late in the summer of 2008.

Countless cousins that I have never met before were there. A couple of dads friends from High School were there and 2 representatives of his Union were there. I was very pleased to see them show their support.

Willamette National Cemetery was beautiful. We were in Shelter #4. There were two rows of 4 chairs set up for family. My mom and I say in the front row, CUT next to my mom, Uncle Ed next to him. The row behind us sat Aunt Betty and 3 random cousins I had never met before. My friends stood in the corner behind me. His high school friends and the Union guys stood outside the shelter-they knew they were welcome, but were really outsiders.

The color guard carried my dad from the hearse to the accordian style moveable support. The casket was draped with the American Flag. Taps was played. We were crying from the moment my dad emerged from the back of the hearse. Three shots were fired. My mom was given the folded flag and the casings from the three spent rounds. It was difficult to watch.

The cemetery administrator said a few words, thanking my father for his service to our country. The preacher then recited the 23rd Psalm. He read the majority of the obituary (I did not care for this, I wish he had worked in these details some other way...it is probably just because I had spend so much time working on the obituary it seemed stale to me).

He then told stories about how my parents met, my dads favorite pass times, favorite food and his legendary indecisiveness ("It don't matter to me").

The service was very nice. One major disappointment I had was the bag piper. He never showed up. Although hearing Amazing Grace on the pipes would have been devastating, it was what he wanted. I cannot believe the piper didn't show up. I hope he just forgot, and isn't hurt. I am hurt that he wasn't there though. The Funeral Director was mortified. He kept his cool though. He said we would receive a refund ( not a big issue, but good to know) and that the piper would probably never work for Macy and Son again.

My dad was rolled away, back to the hearse and was to be buried this afternoon. We could have visited him around 4pm today if we wanted. We chose not to.

I said my thanks to those who attended. The Union guys introduced themselves, delivered a Grief Kit and a nice Protestant Bible, along with the Union Presidents card and the card to the union benefits manager. These guys were very nice, I am very pleased the joined us today.

I am so happy that I had so many friends come up to support me today and yesterday. It was only a few minutes, but knowing they were behind me, did make me feel better.

No one took pictures, one person did ask to though. Everyone was on their best behavior too.

I am completely exhausted, totally wiped out. After 2 years of fighting this battle we can all rest for a bit now.

June 9, 2009 -- The Visitation

We met with the preacher today at 3pm to discuss the service tomorrow. He was a nice guy. He allowed us to tell stories and laugh and try to let him know and understand my dad.

At 345 my mom and I went in to see him. The lower half of the casket was draped with the flag. He was inside wearing the blue suit he bought for my Grandmas (moms mom) funeral. He didn't wear suits but to funerals. Over his legs and up to his waist was the blue fleece blanket he received from Evastin-the Chemo drug that was designed to combat his very specific cancer (from genetic testing they found the exact cancer he had).

In his breast pocket he had the St. Christopher medal I bought for him. He bought be a St. Christopher medal when i started traveling for work- chris is the patron saint of travelers, I think. I have him this medal to protect him on his journey, his fight against cancer.

Legacy Hospice gave my mom a ceramic heart that was in two pieces- they fit together and were designed to be held by two people, symbolizing that being apart their two hearts would never be whole. My dad had one in his hand and my mom keeps the other one.

In April 1979 my grandma (dads mom) took a polaroid of my dad holding me and my mom in the background. This photo was placed in his hands.

He did not look like my dad. His mouth wasn't right. His lips seemed odd and his cheeks were too narrow. They could only do so much to make him look like himself. I think it was easier today because it didn't look like him. The funeral home owner came out and said that he knew who I was as I looked just like my dad. I don't see it. I think he looks like his dad, Loyal. It was shocking.

We cried.

We had some family come that I never heard of, they listed how they were related, but everyone they noted I had never heard of before. They were from Mac, but never stopped off to see my dad when he was sick. They came to the visitation though. Uncles Tom and Duane were there. My moms friends Ginny and Dennis were there for 2.5 hours. EAD was there the entire time (am so grateful). The real estate agent was there and she talked business and told jokes the entire time. I loathe her. A high school friend was there for a few minutes too.

Two of my dads co workers: Kevin and Bob were there too. Kevin stopped by many times to see my dad while he was out sick. I had never heard of Bob, but he heard many things about me. He couldn't get time off of work today, but the mill allowed him 15 minutes to go say farewell to my dad. They worked together for years. Bob stayed for a few minutes and told some stories then left quickly. His eyes shrink wrapped in tears.

We received flowers from my Supper Club friends, my office, a very good vendor of mine (ESIS), and the United Steel Worker's Union. All the flowers were very nice, yet very different.

Tomorrow is the funeral. We have a different crowd coming tomorrow. I believe the service itself will be very difficult for us all. Full military honors, taps, bag pipes, the whole shooting match.

I am still surprised as to how "easy" this was today. Maybe I am dead inside.