11 Years Ago Today....
Peach
Sometimes I wonder how life would have been if he had lived. We joke
that when he first got to Heaven, my biological father probably opened
up a can of whoop-ass on him for being such an asshole for 27 years.
Since my mom married my stepdad when I wasn't even 2, he's all I
remember, as far as dads. We fought constantly, about everything. I
used to think he didn't love me because of this, but then I realize
that it was "our way." Had he lived, we would have still been
bickering at each other. With a stubborn, opinionated daughter, how
could it have been any different? We made peace the very last day he
was at home (which was the day before he died.) He couldn't even sit up
to drink water anymore, so we had to use one of those sponges on a
stick to place it on his lips. My sister was always the caretaker. I
was the baby...not so good at that kind of thing, but she was away that
afternoon. I came in and he whispered that he was thirsty. I put the
sponge to his mouth a few times. Then he whispered, "You've been a
really good daughter. I love you." I told him thank you, and hugged
his bony frame. He couldn't have weighed more than 100 pounds.
The next morning, he had some sort of "spell" brought on by delusion,
oxygen starvation... I'm not sure what exactly. He was like a crazed
lunatic. My mom decided it was time to take him to a Hospice type unit
in Fort Collins. When the ambulance came to pick him, I can still see
in my mind the ambulance workers wheeling him away. "Cover your eyes,
Sir. It's bright out here." one of them said. He looked so frail as he
placed his hand over his eyes. I found it hard to believe this once
200 pound bastard who tormented my family most of the time he was well,
was now just a weakened child. It was the last time I saw him alive.
I fell asleep easily that night, not having the sounds of the oxygen
supply keeping me awake. (Even though there was something comforting
about it.) At 11:30 p.m., my sister woke me up and told me, "Dad died
tonight." I remember saying only one word.... "No." Then I covered my
head and cried quietly most of the night. I was mad at her for telling
me the moment it must have happened, because I knew I would just lie
there and grieve for the next 8 hours. I wasn't sure why I was crying.
I think I cried because of what would never be... for the closeness we
would never have....for just not having a dad anymore....and wondering
if he knew that I really did love him, despite the kind of relationship
we had. (The kind that he had with everyone really.) I kept praying,
"God, please tell Dad I love him and that I miss him." (Not really
knowing if God relays messages like that, or if it was even right to
ask.)
I was the only one who broke down at the viewing..... I'm not even sure
if it was because of my own sadness or the finality of it all. I have
a hard time dealing with death. They say that divorce is harder for
people than death, but to me, death is the hardest. At least in
divorce, you know that person still exists *somewhere* on this earth,
and the potential to see them is there (if you wanted to, that is.)
With death....I couldn't grasp never being able to see my dad again. I
hated to think of him buried... I didn't even want to entertain the
thought. As an intellect, I really felt like a child when trying to
comprehend this whole event. The rest of the family kept hugging me
and asking me if I was okay. We are a family that resorts to humor in
tough times--I think my state was startling to them.
It took me a long time to feel "normal" again. I sometimes wonder if
I'm the only family member (besides my mom) who still thinks about him.
My brother's memories of him are painful, so I think he tries not to
think about him. My memories are different--I was the baby girl. For
all the fighting, I think I knew that he was *at least* proud of me.
Maybe it was all ego for him--my mom always said that he liked to brag
about my brains (when he wasn't using it to make fun of me with a snide
I.Q. comment.) Still, I know he looked out for me. He made sure I had
food when I wasn't living at home... he made sure my car was in good
working order... he wanted to do more, I think...but that was all he
was capable of. He loved by doing....by buying....it was all he could
do.
I'm not sure if I wish he was still alive. That would be a dimension
that is too unknown. Being in the face of death....it softened him. It
may have been temporary. Still, the hole that he left behind remains.
Peach
Dan Bretta
FOOTBALL GAME DAY - I think about him everyday, but I will especially
be thinking about him on that day. I can't relate to how your stepdad
raised you, but I can relate to your feelings after he died as I was
very much in that same place as you for a long time. I was unable to
cope with daily life and it ruined my relationship with my fiancee'.
Of course life goes on and things have worked out for me better than I
would have ever thought so you just keep on going...and I've probably
said more than I should to this group of rsfckers.
Dan
Peach
Heh....yea, I kind of felt that after I hit the "POST" button at the
end of my spewage. I wondered if I was getting too sappy around all of
you.
Peach
Jon Enslin
Well, yeah...that doesn't mean that your original post didn't make me
sad.
Jon
Ralph Kennedy
I must say that I did wonder where in hell the
impetus to suddenly from out of the blue pour out
your life history on rsfc (of all places) came from.
I was thinking, damn, she must have gotten off work
and hit the tequila bottle awfully early today. :)
--Ralph Kennedy {ames,gatech,husc6,rutgers}!ncar!noao!asuvax!kennedy
{allegra,decvax,ihnp4,oddjob}--^
^---------------The Wrong Choice
internet: ken...@asuvax.eas.asu.edu
Peach
Me no likey to drink....
I planned on just writing the usual...."11 years ago today, my dad
died" post. But I just started typing like a woman possessed. I guess
I had a lot of venting to do. heh
Peach