Travis' post about his friends death got me to thinking about my Dad's death January 22 2007. I remember exactly what I was doing when my day stopped being good.
I had a new boyfriend, new clients and it was a good day. I was having a goofily dirty conversation via text wth my boyfriend using chinese takeout dishes in ways they weren't intended. You know he was my General Tso, I was his Sweet and Sour chicken...well there was more but right in the middle of the conversation my mom called. My Dad was dead.
You know how you wonder how you will react in certain situations. Well we had a rather large earthquake and I was cool as a cucumber. Same with some potentially scary medical conditions with Mark, calm and collected. So when this happened I went into my take charge mode. Called clients and cancelled my next day. Cancelled a trip for the day after that and headed to my parents condo. First weird experience....... it's not my parents condo anymore, hmmmm.
I still haven't cried. I'm totally dry. I get up there and so is my mom. And then we work carefully to maintain this emotionless state. Tears threaten to pop out several times but neither of us let them. The warm one in the family was dad. He was the one we all liked. We don't really like each other too much. My sister is in Hawaii so we focus on what to do about her, our plan to go to the lawyer tomorrow and how to let everyone know.
So strangely I don't stay. I don't know why but I call practically everyone I know on the way home and tell them and still don't cry. Here's the deal I don't really like to show my emotions. If I have a boyfrend I will probably never fess up how I feel about him. I think I'm worried if it all falls apart I don't want anyone to know how devastated I am. I am not fond of sympathy. Don't know why.
So I was fine through the lawyer and seeing my sister. The two times I did break down were when my boyfriend bought an entire grocery store trying to find something I'd eat....BAWL for hours!!! And when my Mom, with who I have issues, decided to scatter the ashes alone.
It was months later when little things started to creep into my conscienceness and make me cry at the drop of a hat. I'd have a funny dog story and think "I have to tell dad that" and then realize I couldn't. I'd call their house only to realize he will never answer again. My mother started to get rid of his things and they all had a Dad story. Then I couldn't remember his voice. That one kills me even now. Oh and he never met Mark. I hate that one more than anything. I think they would've been very compatable maybe even hung out a little, so sad to miss that.
Even with all this I think things happen for a reason and in an order that is the right order. He was mostly blind soon to be completely blind. We didn't know what we were going to do with him to keep him occupied and not sleeping in his chair. Plus it now horrifies me that we didn't even discuss what we would do with or for him if for some reason my mom went first.
Now aside from a few freak outs , I talked to his sister the other day and was freaked by her voice...it was him. I'm okay but I still miss my silent benevolent presence...my still small voice telling me everythng is ok