On Monday evening, I went to the gym. I did 30 minutes of cardio on the arc trainer. During my 10 minute cool down, a song came on my IPOD which made me think of my Dad. It made me realize how hard this week is going to be. It made me realize that no matter how hard I try to avoid it, I have to deal with the reality that he is gone. Life needs to continue (which is what he would have wanted), but I will never forget him. How do you forget someone you love?
February 17, 2007: Chet and I drive down to Connecticut to visit with my family for the long weekend. I do not feel any sense of urgency to get down there. We go to visit my Mom at work on the way down. I walk into my parents house and head upstairs to their bedroom. My aunt (my Dad's sister), Marjorie (we call her Winkie) is there with him. She says to my Dad as he's laying in bed, "Look whose home? Your wife Helen and..." He sits up, looks straight at me and says "MARPY" (the name my youngest sister used to call me before she could pronounce Cs), totally ignoring my Mom in the process. He spends the rest of the 17th in and out of sleep. In the middle of the night we hear a thud and my mother yell, "OH s***, Arnold". Chet and I immediately jump out of bed and run down the hallway to find my Dad in the closet sprawled on the floor. He had gotten up in the middle of the night and had fallen.
February 18, 2007: We get up in the morning to have a family meeting. We begin to discuss what our plans are to take care of my Dad. A few minutes later we hear footsteps on the stairs. My Dad, who could barely get out of bed the day before, is walking down stairs to join us for breakfast. They say there is clarity before death, and while I'm not sure if my Dad was clear (he thought he was on a cruise ship for awhile and came downstairs dressed for the boat), he ate, he was semi-coherent, and even funny.
Later that evening, my Mom asks me to sleep in their bed with him so that I can check on him. The night before she did not sleep well (case in point the closet incident). We go to bed early and has a hard time settling down. At one point he tried to get up to see my sister Sandra. I have to explain that he will see Sandy in the morning. He falls asleep and is awakened by a dream. I go and sit by his side and ask him about his dream. He turns to me with a smile on his face, puts up his hand, wiggles his fingers, and says "Worms". He settles down and we fall asleep. About 1am, I wake up to check on him. He seems cold. I run and get Chet who helps me check on him. My Dad is still breathing. Chet tells me to go back to sleep and we will deal with it in the morning. My Dad has already fallen into a coma by this point.
When I woke up on the 19th, I went down told my Mom my biggest fears. These fears were only confirmed when the medical staff came to check on him. They brought him up to the hospital. His stay in the hospital, although only a day, was one of the most amazing experiences ever. He was surrounded by friends and family. People were laughing, people were crying. It is exactly how he would have wanted it. My mom, my aunt and I slept in the hospital that night. It is comforting to know that I spent his last night with him.
My Dad passed away on February 20, 2007. It is cliche to say that he died peacefully but he did. No long drawn out scene, just a few shallow breaths surrounded by a few family memebers and friends.
As I sit here writting this a year later, I am filled with a mix of emotions. Tears stream down my face, a smile appears on my face, and I've even laughed a few times. I miss my Dad so much. I know he's here with me in spirit but it's not the same. I will never be able to hug him, never be able to listen to him sing off key, and never be able to call him "Stupid Daddy" to his face.
The song on my IPOD earlier this week was "I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You" by Colin Hay. The lyrics to this song are as follows:
I drink good coffee every morning
Comes from a place thats far away
And when I'm done I feel like talking
Without you here there is less to say
Don't want you thinking I'm unhappy
What is closer to the truth
That if I lived til I was a hundred and two
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
No longer moved to drink strong whiskey
I shook the hand of time and I knew
That if I lived 'til I could no longer climb my stairs
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
A face that dances and it haunts me
With laughter still ringin in my ears
I still find pieces of your presence here
even, even after all these years
I don't want you thinkin that I don't get asked to dinner
Cuz I'm here to say that I sometimes do
And even though I may seem to feel a touch of love
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
If I lived til I was a hundred and two
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
I miss you Dad.
2 comments:
I know I just got off the phone with you and I said it was going to take me a little to compose myself and come up with something prolific to say to you, but I couldnt wait. I have known you for as so long, I cannot even put a date on it. I have known your father for probably just as long. AS your best friend (even if I havent received my own letter), I am one of the only people who can say this from the bottom of their heart and mean it as much as I do: I just want to say to you, that I think you are doing an amazing job training and keeping up the strength to perservere. I know sometimes you think you are crazy to be doing this, but I think you are incredible. And I know without thought, your father would think the same. I know you get up each day and think about him, and I know that sometimes its hard not to have him there at the finish line, but always believe that he is there, that is he is cheering you on just like us, and that he is as proud, if not more proud, than we are. I cannot imagine what this week has been for you, I can only listen when you need me to, and give you hugs when you need me to, and give you bits of confidence when you need me to. I am always here for you, and I love you.
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None of us will ever accomplish anything excellent or commanding except when he listens to this whisper which is heard by him alone ~~~ Ralph Waldo Emerson ~~
Marc! (okay, that looks like Mark, but you know what I'm sayin.) You just brought a tear to my eye. :(...wish I could be there to hug you just like I wished I could a year ago...but I suppose I can be patient. Good news! I just brought my ticket to come out for the Marathon ! It'll be a happy occasion and so good to be there an cheer you on! ...and if you want someone to jump the rope and run alongside ya for a few miles, just tell me when! Miss you!
-Sue
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