Memorable Day

Our Memorial Day was a memorable one -- not just because of the fine patriotic program we attended, but the special sendoff later.

And by "special" I mean one that was part sad, part heartbreaking and, honestly, part relief. This special sendoff meant I said my final goodbye to my dad -- and this time it was final.

We knew all weekend the time was drawing near. By the way his body started shutting down, the health professionals could tell that the man with 9 lives had reached his 9th. There was no bouncing back from this.

I chose not to go Up North this time. I felt fortunate I got the chance to say goodbye to him -- several times actually -- and he was able to say "goodbye" and "I love you" back to me. That was how I wanted us to part. Had I been up there, I would have seen an unresponsive old man getting a morphine dose every 2 hours to ease his pain. I would have seen his body completely changing as it retained fluid (everywhere) and circulation diminished. I admire my mom and 6 of my siblings who were there for him during that time and hope that they can get past that image of Dad and remember when he was vibrant and healthy...or somewhat, at least.

In the end -- the very end -- we were all with him in a way. We happened to be holding a "conference call" of sorts on our cell phones in the late afternoon to discuss next steps. When our call was done, it just happened they noticed Dad's breathing was quite shallow, so my Texas sister and I got to say "goodbye" and "I love you" into his ear via cell phone. Then they all said "goodbye" and he took his last breath and was gone.

Into God's hands. Free of pain and suffering.

I can tell you that even if you know a loved one is going to die and it's not a shock, and even if you were blessed to make peace or say goodbye, that does not diminish the pain when you hear that loved one is gone. Forever.

I chose to work from home today because I didn't want to interact with people and trigger a crying breakdown. Sure, I'm entitled but I don't need to put other people through that. Plus, I had an important writing assignment today: Dad's obituary.

Now in my journalism career, I must have typed in or proofed thousands of obituaries. That is not an exaggeration. That was always part of the job at each of the three daily newspapers I worked at, so I was quite familiar with the format of an obit. Writing one about your dad, however, is a different story. I really did just stick to the facts and kept it brief since we will have an expanded "life story" for his service this Saturday.

I was not aware that several of my siblings were journalists, too, but they sure did a heckuva job proofreading today and finding all my mistakes! Ha. That was good. I needed about 7 sets of eyes on that. I had typed some of it up a few weeks ago but today added the facts I didn't want to. Like "he died."

In a way, it doesn't seem real yet. But when I see my mom (his other half for almost 64 years) and family in a few days, it will hit me. And hit me hard.

For now I just want to think of dad like he was in this old picture. That familiar sly grin on his face that says he's up to something, probably no good, and we are about to find out what!

I heard some thunder with the rain today so I am guessing he's already up in heaven teaching those angels to polka! And most likely saying, as he often did to take-charge me, "Just let me lead!"

Good luck, angels. You'll have your hands full!