Dad

On Sunday March 4th my dad took his last breath.  I’ve spent the last almost 3 weeks processing so many different things related to this.  Just even wrapping my head around the fact that he’s really gone.  I still can’t believe it.  I knew it was coming and thought I was prepared, but I definitely wasn’t.  My heart is shatterred.

The friday before he died he had a repeat head CT as well as an ultrasound, nothing alarming, but he remained “off”.  By sunday things were definitely different.  I awoke to a text from my sister with a video of him and immediately spotted a prolonged expiratory phase which I knew wasn’t a good sign.  I had no idea by that evening he’d be gone, my head couldn’t even register what I knew I was seeing.  My mom and I came up with a plan for the day which I felt really good about and I went on about my day.  It was a gorgeous partly cloudy but sunny day along the bay at the alameda flea market and there was so much to look at! I bought a record stand and a bunch of records and was very happy! I talked with my other sister who had just caught up with my mom and updated me on how dad was doing.  He was resting which I anticipated.  We caught up and I felt good with where things were at.  Everyone and everything was settled at the moment.  I wasn’t feeling guilty for having a decent day, I was just enjoying it.

I came home, put my record player on my new stand, lit some incense, and started listening to my new collection.  I’ve been trying to tap into my creativity more and more as I find it a creative release and very therapeutic.  I had taken a class a while back on making dreamcathchers and had bought an extra kit so I could take more time to put it together than the one I did in class.  I started putting my dreamcatcher together.  I was just about done when my phone rang.  It was Melissa, my sister I had caught up with earlier.  I knew it wasn’t good the second I saw her name on my phone and it was the call I hadn’t expected, at least not yet.  All I can remember is hearing her crying voice say “they just called mom and dad is dying” after that it pretty much went blank.  I didn’t cry or scream, I simply was there, but not there at the same time.  I was in shock.  He was fine just a couple hours ago.  What the fuck happenned?  We hung up and I waited.  I waited for the call from someone confirming what I already knew was inevitable.  My other sister called me shortly therafter and told me our Dad died.  He was alone.  My mom and sister were there mere minutes after, but when he took his last breath he was alone.  This breaks my heart, but at the same time I believe he never would’ve let go had any of us been there.

This is what I’ve been processing, along with everything that came thereafter. I booked a flight and headed home the next morning.  I couldn’t keep it together and really didn’t care.  I was lucky enough to have the window seat and turned my head to face outside when I was balling on the plane.  I pretty much cried the whole way home.  I had packed for this situation before. I had had this long plane ride before when I rushed home just 5 weeks earlier thinking dad wasn’t going to make it, but turned the corner while I was in the air.  What I wouldn’t give for that to have been the case yet again.  My head was spinning out of control and I couldn’t believe I was really heading home to bury my father.  This was real, not a terrible nightmare, but stark reality and I needed to put my big girl pants on and face it.

I got to the airport in madison and saw my sister exactly where she said she’d be.  She was always good at that, following through and just being there when she said she would be, reliable.  She has been so great throughout all of this and our family as well as dad would not have gotten as far as we had without her, I am forever grateful to her for this.  We hugged and cried and I was reminded yet again that this is very real.  The weather was starting to turn to blizzard conditions rather quickly.  Melissa, our other sister, was still in the air, set to land just 30 minutes after me.  Marsha and I sat down and waited.  Soon enough we realized it’d been a while and Melissa still hadn’t landed.  She texted us that they were circling in the air as it wasn’t safe braking conditions.  Great, so dad just died and now Melissa’s going to die landing to get home to bury him!  Her 37 minute flight from Minneapolis to Madison ended up taking 5 1/2 hours with a diversion to Milwaukee to refuel and de-ice as well as circling again in madison.  Once we were all together we braved the roads and made it home.  The roads were awful, not many others on them besides huge semis that would splash us with all the sleet and snow on the roads along with gusts of wind blowing it right in our path.  It just might have been one of the longest days in my life, taking what seemed like forever to simply bring us all together as a family, with one key member missing.

We made it to my parents’ house and my mom was still up.  It was a little after 10pm, mom typically goes to bed no later than 9.  We were finally all together and that’s all that mattered, not what time it was.  We cracked open some wine, picked at some food, and just talked about things.  We’d been doing this separately for the last 6 weeks so it felt good to all be together for a change.  So much had happenned and it led us to this moment, a moment none of us were ready for.  We discussed the details of what the next few days were going to bring, just to have somewhat of an outline of the week.  I had no idea how many things need to be taken care of after a loved one passes.  I’ve had close loved ones pass, but I’d never been in the position of having to do anything for the service.  Luckily mom had good ideas of what dad wanted as they had discussed that.  They also had burial plots already purchased so there were a couple of things we at least didn’t have to take care of.  We were all exhausted, still in shock, devastated and knew we needed some rest.

Sleep never comes easy for me when I am home.  The time difference as well as the uncomfortable bed in the guestroom, the noises I’m not used to and just all the stuff that I haven’t dealt with while I lived in this town and in this house so many years ago.  There is still so much I have yet to deal with and now I can add this to that.  I have been working so hard on becoming my most authentic and real self, but when I am home I regress so quickly to what works best for everyone else.  No one asks me to do this, but I just fall back into it like an old habit.  I simply get quiet and play my role.  This is a huge reason I don’t like going home.  It hits so many of my triggers.  It makes me feel ingenuine and weak which I absolutely hate. So I put my “youngest daughter/sister” hat on and we go about the week.

We all become task oriented, we have to be, we have to get this stuff done.  Step by step everything starts to come together.  By the end of tuesday we have most everything somewhat together and arranged with a few things we need to take some time to do.  By wednesday afternoon everything is set and other family starts to arrive.  Nothing like a funeral to bring everyone together you haven’t seen in a while.  My Uncle brings some much needed comic relief, he defifnitley plays his role in that to a T.  My Aunt and cousin arrive and I can see how sad they are, but trying to stay strong for all of us.  We gather around and catch up, for a second there I think we even forget why we’re all together.  I keep expecting my dad to walk up the stairs from the basement as he did so many times before.  Unfortunately that just isn’t possible anymore.

Throughout the week I am the only one that goes down to the basement.  I never had a problem hanging out with dad in the basement.  It was his space.  I sit in his spot and fiddle with my guitar, trying to play a song by the eagles, a band he loved.  At different times since his passing I have felt his presence so strongly.  Even yesterday I randomly smelled his cologne, just for a second.  I know he’s with me, but the feeling has faded some since time has passed.  There are so many things I am reminded of about my dad.  The many sweet messages I received about how great our dad was and little things that people remember.  A girl I graduated high school with and haven’t talked to in years said everytime she smells a dry erase marker she thinks of “coach”.  This made me smile.  It reminded me of how many unpaid hours dad spent as our coach.  How much time he dedicated to shaping me and so many other girls into young women.  He never gave up on anyone.  He was always encouraging and understanding and would do whatever he could to give someone their shot, make them think someone believed in them,  I know it’s awful, but over the years I simply forgot about this stuff.  Dad changed and I didn’t get to see that side of him hardly ever anymore.  It was so wonderful to be reminded of what an amazing man dad really was.

I had forgotten how goofy he could be.  Dad’s sense of humor was simply a goofball.  He’d turn his hat around backwards and make a face or say something quick witted and you just couldn’t do anything but laugh.  We spent so much of my childhood together, just him and I.  We had practices, sometimes twice a night throughout the week as well as countless games and tournaments we’d have to travel to.  We were buds and it was just easy back then.  When did that change?  When did it get hard to just be buds?  Over the years our conversations became less and less.  Dad just wasn’t much of a phone guy.  When we did talk it wasn’t about much of anything important.  One thing I will miss dearly though is talking about sports with him.  I swear I’d keep up with certain teams and players just so I’d have something to talk with him about, something we both cared about.  He could pick the game apart so easily, whether it was basketball or football, he just saw it differntly than I ever could, subtley teaching me in the ways only he could.  I miss him and I will always miss that, that was ours.

So I got back to California a couple weeks ago, just numb and overwhelmed.  I went right back to work as I really don’t have any time off.  The first day of work I kept my head down and just avoided talking about it, even though people still asked.  Work was all I could save my energy up for as I knew I had to go.  So I’d go to work, use up all my energy to be “on” all day, come home and just let myself be whatever I needed to be, just not having to “be” anything.  I was sad, I was numb, I was angry, I was devastated, I was in disbelief, I still am all these things at any given moment throughout the day. I’m still processing so much and know that I will be probably forever.  I’m not sure this is a loss I’ll ever be over, just learn to live with. Dad was my guy, really the only consistent man I’ve ever had in my life and now he’s gone.  That’s a hard one for me and always will be.

I reached out to my ex earlier this week.  He had texted me the day I posted something about dad, telling me he was here if I needed to talk and hoped that I was ok.  I saved it.  I knew there was going to be a time I’d want to talk to him, but that it’d be later on which it was.  I unfriended us on facebook so he didn’t really even know what happenned nor did he ask until we spoke the other day.  I had called him the day before, not leaving a voicemail as I didn’t really know what to say, just wanted to talk to him.  He didn’t call back or respond, pretty shitty.  I texted the next day and he apologized saying he’s been distracted and he’d call me in 20.  Well 20 turned into 2 1/2 hours later and then he only gave me 15 minutes of his time as he was late to a Persian New Years celebration.  I know it’s not his duty to take care of me, but this was a very big slap in the face that he simply does not care about me at all.  I realize  now, as hard as it is, that there just isn’t room for him in my life as he definitely doesn’t have room for me in his.  It hurts to know he doesn’t care.  I think that’s really why I waited to reach out to him, knowing he’d just add to the hurt and waiting until a time where my heart had a little room for that.  He is simply a dissappointment, but one I’ve learned so much from.

So my heart is quite heavy these days, trying to simply give myself a break and show myself compassion, just taking one day at a time.  I went back to acupuncture the other day which was great.  I’m not quite ready to go back to meditation, it’s still hard to quiet the mind right now.  I’ve done it at home for shorter times and know I’ll go back when I’m ready.  I am stretching more which is helping my chronic low back pain and making yoga a priority.  Music is still my solace and I’m trying to make it to a show a week, whether it be a well known artist or simply someone I don’t even know of but appreciate anyways.  So far I’ve been able to make it to a show every week and find it’s a small goal I really enjoy!  For now I am making it through each day, allowing myself time to process and grieve as well as learn from all of this. I miss you dad, Love you buddy!