THANK YOU

Thank you

 

It's a simple term.

It is heart felt.

Portugal, Saudi Arabia, The good old US of A,

Thailand, Korea,  Russia, Brazil and the Netherlands.

Thank you for just looking.
It's a small world with all the same problems,
same losses, same people.
I am honored.
Just
Thank you.

We all deal with losing parents, losing children,
sisters, brothers, spouses, friends.
It's a loss.
Admit it.
We all need to deal with it.
Friends, family, food, spirits.

They say to journal.
Mine is public.

I am looking to reach out, just looking to share.
It's universal, the loss.

Just
Thank You
for listening.


Happy Birthday Daddy

My dad would have been 88 today.

He was born June 22, 1925.

 

I have been thinking how I would celebrate today without him.

I started the day with a walk at 7 am and will end it with a

moonlight kayak trip  starting at 7 pm.

Didn't know how I would fill the rest of the day.

Life always has need to do's, should do's, I would like to do's.

Basically, everything seemed like too much work.

 

Daddy was a great gardener. Maybe I garden for him today.

 Went to the nursery to get a plant for a neighbor whose father passed this week

but just couldn't get into the gardening.

Called my sister, is there anything I need to do today?

No, let's do it Tuesday.

 

I stopped by a couple of garage sales and scored some vintage linens, a

1947 complete Monopoly game and a

I Love Lucy umbrella, episode 110

all for $1.00 each.

So spent time on ebay finding how much they are worth if I ever get around

to selling the items.

That led to more wasted time on the laptop.

 

I was pissed at little red fold up bike because the chain spontaneously fell off

yesterday morning and the gears aren't working right.

I have been looking and decided to buy a Tern fold up bike from

City Bicycle. I test rode the bike last night.

I found another fold up bike in Sac for $200 less.

Nah, wanted the Tern D8.

So I bought it.

Sorry little red.

Nothing like spending money to get past the inertia.

 

Called Mother to ask about the

Celebration Cake she and Daddy used to make.

I guess I don't really remember she said.

I know it was a white cake with powder sugar and shortening frosting.

Guess I'll have to took through their cookbooks to find a white cake recipe page

with food stains on the page.

I didn't appreciate it so much.

Cake was kinda dry, frosting sparse but it would be nice to know

what the recipe was.

 

So now it's 4:45.

Dishes still in the sink, I have to make the bed.

Did manage to get sheets washed.

That leaves 1:15 minutes to finish the work

that has been sitting in front of me all day.

Too much work.

 

So spent the day

thinking about my dad

did the wants.

Birthdays are a day to pamper.

Just pampered myself today.

 

Happy birthday Daddy.

Love you.

 

 

 



Father's Day 2013

NEVER TAKE A DEPRESSED DOG WITH DIARRHEA CAMPING

 

Sam the Dog has not received much attention the past couple of weeks.

We made sure he had food and water but that was about it.

We were in and out, he was shuttled around to backyards and neighbors houses.

His house was invaded by company, stress, and emotions.

Dogs reflect what is going on around them.

He probably got hold of some food that was not good for him too.

 

In order to get away from everything, we planned a Father's Day

camping trip to a campground not too far from us.

There is a luxury to camping that allows me to be profoundly lazy without guilt.

Many times I get my best sleep fallaing asleep looking at the stars through netting on the tent. I love to listen to the frogs croaking in the distance or the sound of a stream.

 

Todd brought his king-sized blow up mattress and made our bed with a furry sheet, and white comforter. It could have been a wedding bed.

Any thought of a romantic evening was dashed when Sam starting pacing all over the bed.

My side to his side, take him out to go, do you want to switch sides of the bed?

We switch, he still paces, stops for a few minutes then resumes. He is shaking.

I sit up, put Sam on the leash and zip the tent open. Poor little guy just squirts a little and comes back in. He rested a bit and it starts all over.

 

It's useless to sleep any more. I feed Sam a bit of oatmeal and milk and he laps it up.

We come home and I feed him some chicken, rice and broth.

He definitely has more energy.

Now Todd is asleep on the sofa, Sam is sound asleep on the bed

and I am trying to stay away so I can sleep through the night tonight.

 

This is my Father's Day story 2013.

Miss you Daddy.

You would have laughed.

 

 



Coming Out of The Bubble

I've lost my daughter.

I've lost my father.

 

My world was a bubble when they died.

Who do you tell?

How do you say " Kimmy passed away?"

How do you say, "My father passed?"

The hugs the kisses.

Will you please let these friends know?

Shock and disbelief.

Sadness, acceptance.

 

I put myself in a shell, the bubble.

I don't want to know what is going on outside my little world.

Planning a service, writing the obituary.

What were the favorite foods?

Flowers? What kind of flowers?

Too many decisions have to be made.

 

What do I say? Will I be able to talk?

This needs to be a celebration.

There will be tears, there will be laughter.

Stories will be told.

 

Visitation.

Picking up ashes.

Friends and family gather

at weddings and funerals.

 

Then it's over.

I'm left with cards and flowers and way too much food.

I'm tired and just want to go to bed and sleep.

 

I nap.

The kitchen fairy is real!

The dishes are done. Chairs put away.

Cloths are off tables.

My turn.

Do laundry. Walk the dog.

Clean out old emails.

Eat more cake.

Feel like crap.

Just waiting for the 6 pm massage.

 

I could really do something constructive I say.

I say, get off your fanny and get to the gym.

It's just one step.

You will feel so much better.

You'll be proud of yourself for taking the first step...

out of the bubble.



ONE LAST DECISION

ONE LAST DECISION

 

My father's older brother was not able to attend the services.

We wanted to include him in the gathering.

Sunday evening was the family dinner.

We Skyped Uncle Tom.

Tom reminisced, told stories. He was there.

He remembered how Daddy always greeted us.
He said:
 

Good Morning

Good Afternoon

Good Evening

 

He was right. I had not even realized or remembered. That is what Daddy said. 
A simple humble greeting.

 

At the cemetery, we were ushered into a room.

Final decisions.
What would you like us to put on front the gravestone.

His gravesite number will be on the back.

How do you want his name?

Religious affiliation? No thank you.

 

How do you want him remembered?

You have 15 characters per line, 3 lines.

Here are some examples.

I will leave you for a few minutes to consider.

 

The Navy enlistee came in to offer his condolences and thank Daddy for his service.

He said I will be representing the Navy at the service.

We thanked him for his service.

 

Back to the question at hand.

We didn't look at the suggestions.

We looked at each other.

In unison we said:

 

Good Morning

Good Afternoon

Good Evening

 

A humble homage to a humble man.

 

Thank you Uncle Tom for making this decision so easy.

You will always be with your brother.

 

 



June 10, 2013 The Service

THE SERVICE

 

My dad told us in December that he had made arrangements to be buried at the Sacramento Valley National Cemetery in

Dixon, California.
He said they will take care of everything, at no cost.
The mortuary will make the arrangements.
I had no idea there was a National Cemetery in Dixon.
Arrangements were made, the date was set, June 10, 2013, 2:00p.m.

We were warned, do not be late. Your clock will start ticking at
2:00 sharp.
You have exactly 1/2 hour for the services.
The services will start with the processional to the ceremony site.
Taps will be played, the flag will be folded and presented to my mother.

Friends and family gathered.
Daddy's colleagues from Sac State, a poker buddy, his neighbors, our neighbors,
our friends and our dear family.
We looked back, out of the limo. we were stunned at the line of cars.
All these people are here for Daddy.
We cried.

The pallbearers, who to choose?
6 or 8 family or military?
In the middle of the night I could see it.
My nieces and brother-in-law on one side.
Todd and Emily on the other.
A space in the middle for the missing granddaughter.
Grandpa was with her now. It was OK.

The playing of taps, the silence of the flag folding,
the winds howling outside the pavilion.
The Navy officer, the enlistee.
Precisely folding the flag, staring at each other, not blinking while the flag
was adjusted.
It was perfect.
It was presented to my mother.
My sister spoke, thanked our friends and family for coming.
We had no idea so many would be there.
She said the prayer.
I spoke, My Pops is Tops.
Sons-in-law spoke.
He was thanked for his volunteer time at the Railroad Museum.
He fellow college professors reminisced.

Service was over. My mom said her goodbyes.
She was handed a dove.
The single dove flew in a circle.
It was joined by more doves.
They circled and flew away.

Goodbye Daddy.






FRIDAY, 6-7-2013

The kids are here.

It's so good to see them.

Get caught up.

They bring 2 pounds of Patsy's Candy from Colorado Springs.

About 20 pieces of candy disappeared before we went to bed.

My new best friend is Patsy.

 

 

I need to submit the obituary.

Decision is made not to add a picture.

I read what I wrote.

It works, under 15 lines as written in the

Sacramento Bee obituary classified ad set up page.

I could not find a spot for the 14 character, number, cap and lower letter plus symbol

password provided by the Bee so I could retrieve what had been written.

I started over again.

Cut and paste from email, unfreeze computer, get the cemetery information again,

get the mortuary information again.

Finally submitted.

 

What do you mean I am over 14 lines? When I typed it out on the classified obit page it was under 15 lines? You mean it's 28 lines and it will cost $278 for 2 days, no picture?

Why doesn't the classified page tell you price before submission?

My mom just shakes her head. There is not a thing I can cut out of the

classified obituary ad.

Why does it have to be called a classified ad?

 

Talk with kids,

Go to Longhorn Meat in Auburn for meat for Sunday Family dinner.

Fillets I promised Daddy, camel and kangaroo for a taste.

Salmon from Sunh Fish for dinner tonight.

I couldn't let kids get out of town without something from Sunh Fish.

 

We eat, we drink, more Patsy's for dessert.

It's so good to have the kids home.

 



On Losing my Father day 9

DAY 9

 

Yea, email is working and caffeine in my system.

Good sleep.

Today is obit day.

What to say.

 

We are sorry to, no, We regret, no,

Our dear husband and father... ok.

There are 15 lines. Keep it brief, just the facts ma'am.

Ok, got it done in 13 lines.

Oops, need time, day of funeral,

Ok now 14 lines.

 

When to run the obit? Saturday and Sunday.
So Sunday costs more than the other six days.

Pictures $65 a day.

Do I need to put in a picture?

Decided to defer to decision to sister and Mom.

 

Waiting for family approval to submit.

 

Yard work day.

Hook Houdini Sam up.

Don't want to worry about losing him.

Get rid of the weeds, clip off dead heads, a bit of pruning,

bring out the blower, the trimmer, the lawnmower.

It's getting really hot.

Honey, why is that part of the flowerbed getting water and

this side dry?

Not my department.

We'll remember to hand water the pots.

Can't let Daddy's flowers die.

Let me get the tablecloth before you put the shade back in.

 

2:00 pm

Back inside.

Air con is on.It's getting hot outside.

Finish the laundry.

Turn the mattress.

Make the bed.

Clean the bathrooms.

Clean the shower.

Clean me.

Wait. I need to order the lasagne from Sampino's for Sunday dinner.
There's a light bulb out in the family room.
Check upstairs downstairs.
Start another list.
I really want a cold Coor's Light

3pm
Let's get our Costco shopping out of the way. We'll do the beds tonight.
Em and James arrive at 11:25 pm.
Might as well stay busy at home before we pick them up.
Costco list.
Wine, gin beer, pizza, vitamins, Duck Jerky for Sam and on and on.
Remember honey, the wine is for this weekend.
Really, who am I reminding?

7 pm
Em and James at the airport in Denver. Can't believe they will be here tonight.
Costco cornmeal pizza for dinner.
Everything Costco.

I left my CC cards in my backpack.
Can't order the meat and cheese trays at Costco.
Can't find honey.
Call him. Please meet me in front of the Rotisserie Chicken.
No response.
15 min later he arrives with chips. I ask.
Please don't divide and conquer. Let's stay together.
Trays ordered.

Just stay busy until the plan arrives.
In bed 12:30 am



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Diary On Losing a Father... Day 8...

 

Day 8

 

Can't handle work, mourning and funeral planning.

Called in and put myself out until next Wednesday.

 

Went to check emails.

Need to provide security messages to log in.

Can't remember security message.

Account locked.

On half hour later, finally figured out how to get hold of real person

at Yahoo. I need to be able to prove non-Yahoo email account or phone to text info.

I don't text. Husband home so he takes care of answering emails to Yahoo.

New password set up.

Ahh, back into emails.

 

Out of caffeine coffee, the Blonde Blend Starbucks Willow de-caf coffee that's been stored in the freezer for 6 months isn't what I need.

Get on little red bike to go to Starbucks for bag of the real stuff and my free coffee.

Caffeine in system, much better.

 

Make smoothie for breakfast.

I use a new Trader Joe's antioxident mix that includes pomegranate arils (seeds) .

The seeds don't breakdown so there big seeds the smoothie.

I'll call it extra roughage.

Just stood by the sink and spat out the shells.

 

Now it's 10:30 am.

Next dog wash and walk. Poor Sam-the-dog has been so ignored.

He stinks and needs some attention.

12:00

Dog washed, dog walked.

kitchen sort of clean.

Laundry Hanging.

Plants watered.

What, it's supposed to be 113 on Sat?

Have to keep Daddy's plants alive.

 

Finally, a moment to cry, to remember, to mourn.

 

Found that moldy rotten sweet potato in the kitchen closet

that I've been smelling for the last week.

Dust bunnies off bedroom floor

 

Look in garage for Windex, the door is open.

Oh no where is Sam?

Can't lose Sam.

He's on the front lawn.

Come Here Sam

Good Boy

Duck breast reward.

 

2:00 pm

Listening to WomanChild jazz singer.

Walking around with KindleFire 8" tucked in the back of pants.

Giant earphones plugged in.

 

9:00PM

Ready for bed.

 



TUESDAY June 4

Back to work. Write the memo.

Oh good, no phones, just correspondence today.

I have to get the notice to the Railroad Museum today to let volunteers know he passed and when the services are.

 

Len passed away? I just saw him.

Yes, he was here 3 weeks ago. It got to be too much and he resigned from the mail car.

So sorry to hear.

 

Didn't I meet you on May 10 at the museum docent recognition dinner?

Yes, he was quite excited we could all be there with him.

I so enjoyed knowing him...

Did you know he found a picture of a high school chum in the dining car?

He was working in the car and saw a picture of a girl he knew waving to a soldier.

I leave, notice will be posted.

 

My mind is going in circles.

I see a friend in the bike room.

She reminds me of what is important.

Are you taking care of yourself? I know you.

In my mind Kimmy is saying are you taking your meds mom?

Yes, I am Kim. Yes, I am doing too much. No, I am not taking care of myself.

 

Go to family meeting.

Plan, agree, make lists.

Mother says, here are your pink glasses. You left them at the bank.

I put them in my purse.

 

Go home.

I've decided, no work for the rest of the week.

Finally sleep.

 



It's Monday, Back to Work

Back to work.

In a word, I am worthless.

Need to check messages, updates, remember passwords.

Talk to someone. Don't want to work.

I don't have any work assigned yet.

Just breathe deep and have some coffee.

 

More emails from family. We are coming, sorry to hear, you need to...

On and on.

Make it through the day. I am the voice for our members. You mean to tell me we are doing this to our member? It is outrageous.

Blast an email to management.

First thing in the morning want you to write up memo so I can pass it on.

Okay. Need to come to work on Tuesday.

 

Come home. Just flop on sofa, turn on tv and veg. There was something for dinner.

A bit or maybe more of white wine. We talk, I zone out on worthless show.

I just want to escape.

Fall asleep on the sofa.

 



IT'S Sunday

Grandiose list of what I want to accomplish.

Farmer's Market, make dinner, clean house, do laundry, everything I have been ignoring for the past week.

Back to work tomorrow.

 

Get on freeway, what is that sound? Look at the car next to me. He drives off.

The sound is still there.

Get off freeway. Look down. Remember the curb I drove over yesterday?

The front undercover of my bumper is dragging on the ground.

Drive home, get it off.

Off to the market, the store.

Remember, everything is taking twice as long as it should.

 

Don't lose purse or keys or credit cards.

One pair of pink glasses is already lost.

Not bad considering.

Remember your list.

 

Just slow down.

Talk to neighbors, tell them about the plans.

Food coming next Friday.

That's when kids will be here.

 

Just want to curl up and take a nap.

Not today.

 



Saturday, June 1

It's Saturday.

We, I, really need a break from the family.

A few chores at Mother's house in the morning.

Back home.

Watch out, daddy's flowers are dying.

Can't let Daddy's flowers die.

We need to get those to my house so we can keep them watered.

 

First baby tomatoes on the vine are ripe.

Daddy, you didn't quite make it for this year's crop.

No front porch deliveries of tomatoes and cukes and green peppers this year.

No slightly squished oh so sweet miniature Sweet 100's.

I knew some year they wouldn't be there.

I say, I am going to cut some tomato branches with little red tomatoes on them

and put them in a vase and take them to my house for the reception.

Just have to put them in a place so no one will eat them.

 

Stop at store. Run over curb with the front of my Prius.

Just back up like a hundred times before.

Go home, gin and tonic. Clean up a bit.

Don't remember dinner. Just go to bed.

Maybe tonight I will sleep.

 

Nope, more Maclemore.

Friday May 30

CAN'T SLEEP

 

This is night 2 little sleep.

My mind is whirling in a thousand directions.

How can we get this all done?

Let's see, we need to do this tomorrow.

Mother wants window bars, get rid of his meds, what do we do with

Daddy's clothes. These are not my priorities.

Another bank, more financials, more signatures, pay the bills.

 

The Perhaps this is the Best Meditation Relaxation music I downloaded is not relaxing.

My mind is racing through it. Need to relax, think about something else.

Put on Macklemore. Not relaxing but I try to memorize the words.

Mind doesn't slow, just goes in another direction.

 

Macklemore, can we go Thrift Store shopping? a little girls' voice says.

I think, Daddy can we go to A&W Root Beer for just a little mug?

Neon Cathedral.

That is speaking to me.

Don't need another but sure sounds good.

 

Relax I say. More words, more songs.

Maybe I did fall asleep.

Now it's 3 am.

Black Cadillac, Capital Hill, just leaning back....

 

Wake up.

Today's goals, do not lose purse or keys or credit card.

Do not pull out in front of another car.

Massage at 5 pm.

You thought I was tight before.

 

Another day, need a break from the family.

Haven't seen this much of them

since I lived at home 40 years ago.

Mending fences.

Make weekend lists. What will we eat?

Nothing that involves chicken is the only request.

Mom and sis losing weight. I don't weigh. Maybe more maybe less for me.

I find Daddy's last batch of potato salad in the fridge.

Has Onions,

is the sign on the Tupperware lid.

It's his handwriting. He didn't get to finish it.

I take it home and put it in the freezer,

right by Kimmie's spaghetti.

 

Another sleepless night.

More  Macklemore.

Neon Cathedral. Swoosh, holding up the roof,

You mean it's a loan?

I'm understanding more.

10,000 hours, that's what I wish I still had with my Dad.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



THURSDAY MAY 30

EVERYTHING TAKES SO MUCH TIME

 

My dad was so organized.

We are not.

We are going in circles from bank to bank, opening accounts, closing accounts.

Making sure Mother is ok.

I thought you had the SS number, no, I don't have it. Where are my pink reading glasses?

What account is here?

 

Going to the mortuary. More decisions.

Dad bought his policy in 1986 at 1986 prices. He's been living on borrowed time.

We realize the prices have gone up.

They honor the prices. They work through the National Cemetery system.

4 hours later, we have booked an extra limo and paid for death certificates and a transfer fee so he can be buried in Yolo County and have date for funeral.

Is that all?

Texting grandchildren, what do you want?

Can I bury a bit of Kimmy with Grandpa?

Ok, just don't tell us.

Choose words, choose a saying, what do you want on the casket liner?

I really want a train I say.

He volunteered at the Railroad Museum. We are burying him in his museum shirt.

and a French Lick RR hat. Ok, we'll see what we can do.

What is your second choice

 

Planning celebration after funeral. Now, Daddy said it will be ok to have a party.

We need food. What food? Daddy liked food. He loved chocolate milkshakes and desserts.

Cake from Ettores, gin and tonics, sandwiches, potato salad,

nuts, beer. What else?

Trying to please. What would Daddy want.

 



Wednesday May 29

MAY 29

 

That's it is over, June 22, 1925 to May 29, 2013.

Didn't make it to 90 like big bro.

 

They say spend all the time you need.

He getting colder. Warmth in the legs, hands are cold.

We tell the nurse.

I am so sorry. Call, funeral home, call pension, cry a little.

Clean up the room.

Collect the tissue boxes.

We laugh.

It's like Mother collecting the sugar packets and butter pads at restaurants.

Depression era mentality.

 

We're ready to go. Body cold.

Oh you can't go yet, wait for the discharge nurse.

Discharge nurse?

Ok. We wait.

Wait for his doctor to pronounce.

Pronounce?

 

We want to go.

Oh wait, you will be getting a call from Organ donation?

Really?

His body? Yes.

We wait.

Pronounced, discharged, we just want to sleep.

 

Need to go, cancel appointments, get home.

Organ donation center calls.

They need to ask some questions.

They need to harvest soon

Too much info.

How much sex have you and the deceased had in the past year?

Other partners?

In England or France during xxxx and xxxx ?

Yes but not for 3 months

Worried about Mad Cow Disease?

Really?

Aren't you worried about the Bird Disease when we went to Hong Kong?

 

He is a donor. Eyes and heart for research.

Skin for burn victims and mastectomy patients.

Really?

Be a donor

 

Finally sleep.

 

 



May 28

May 29

 

I get a call, the call, at 8:04. I am at work.

Mother says, daddy is not well. I think you should come.

I leave work.

Drive home.

I hope Daddy will wait for me.

I call Todd. Go to Mother and Daddy's house.

Daddy is not well.

 

You left last night. We had your soup.

He said I don't feel well, just take me to bed.

Mother did what she could do.

She got him to bed.

He wasn't making sense and he went to sleep.

 

I got the call. He was sleeping. I cry Daddy I knew this day would come.

Daddy you can see Kimmy. Please say hello, I know she is ok.

Please let her know we are ok.

Daddy, it is ok. Daddy we are ok.

Daddy can you hear me? Daddy, can you squeeze my hand?

 

NO

 

Daddy, can I shift your pillow. Daddy, Todd is here. Can you hear him?

 

 

NO but he shifts.
 

Daddy do you need a pillow?

Sister, I call her on your on your way? Yes she says.

Daddy, you have to wait. We're not all here.

Can I help you sit up?

What can I do?

 

I know you don't want to go to the hospital. Just wait for my sister,

your daughter.

Daddy it's ok.

We've had great trips, we have good memories.

Mother is good hands.

It's ok. Talk to Kimmy

Wait for sister.

 

She comes. She cries. Daddy, can you squeeze my hand?

NO

Can I make your more comfortable?

 

She we call the doctor? No he wants to die at home.

Two hours pass. He breathes. We call the doctor. He says call 911.

Parmeds come. Oh daddy would be pissed if he knew.

Sirens. I hate sirens and parameds in my house. Not good news.

 

Docs say, do you want to tube? Split decision. Dad said no.

Docs say these are the risks. Dad said no.
It's what he wanted

They do tests, CT scan. His doc comes.

He says not good. No hope. Maybe a few minutes, maybe a few days.

His heart is strong, his brain is gone.

It was fine only yesterday.

We watch the screens, BP is fine.

 

They take him upstairs, in a room, no one else, to die.

 

We have a cot, we have chairs, we have cookies and McDonalds choc milkshake.

Daddy, you would really like these.
Daddy humor. Dark humor.
5 am

 

Death rattle, morphine, a little sleep, more cookies.

 

Daddy it's ok to die.

And he is gone.

 



MEMORIAL DAY, 2013, May 27

Monday, we come home from camping early, due to threat of rain.

I call on the way home. We'll be there. I am making you 13 or 15 or 17 bean soup for dinner with the

hot duck sausage we cooked while we were camping.

I'll be over at

2:00 ish or so.

We take separate cars. I go over first.

I want to offer to buy plants for the fence railing boxes he made.

I get there.

The railing boxes are gone. Dirt emptied into the vegetable beds.

So no early Father's Day present.

I wanted to take him to the nursery to pick out plants.

Suck it up.

How can I help?

He says I want those plants there and uncover this bench. This is one

Grandpa Wilcox had on his porch.

We need these flowers there, this pot plate is on the side of my shed right there.

Where? I search and come out with the wrong dish. I'll find it Daddy.

Be careful with the baby praying mantis.

Mother comes to the shed and says I need to know where my money is.

You know Daddy is not well.

I am irritated. I need time with him not you.

 

Deep breath, mend fences, find the plate to put under the plant.

I said to Daddy.

You know Mother is worried about the money.

He says in his irritated Daddy voice. She knows where the box is. It has all my papers,

all my information. I say, we need to sit down an talk about it.

I need to mend fences.

He says ok.

He says just pull out the rest of the onions.

I say ok.

I am crying.

It's not the onions.

Deck is clean, water fountain working.

It is getting cooler outside so he is sitting in a chair, just inside the sliding glass door.

He is happy. There is calm smile on his face. His family is there.

His garden in place.

We go inside, go over the financials.

It is cocktail hour.

Honey comes in and says he needs a beer. Dad say look in the bottom shelf in the right hand door. There is Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. Dad knows everything.

I say I need a beer. Dad do your want one?

Mom shakes her head and says no.

I say we can split it.

I pour the beer in 3 Fostoria dessert glasses, 1/3 beer split.

My dad, my sister and I.

My mother says no.

I have a beer with my dad.

We finish the financials.

I hadn't planned to stay for dinner.

I say, Daddy, Father's Day is in 2 weeks.

We'll have the amazing fillet steaks we had this weekend for your dinner.

He says OK but can we start like at 3 or 4?

I say ok.

I think, he's not going to make it.

I hate empty promises.

II say I'll be back to help you next week.

May 25.. Saturday

 

Called Daddy

 

We're on our way camping so call Daddy to see how his Doc appointment went.

He said I am feeling much better.

I had stopped my pills. Just tired of getting up so many times during the night.

 

The doctor wasn't happy. He doubled my meds. I feel much better.

I am making potato salad. I haven't felt like cooking for the last few weeks.

I am quite happy he is cooking but remember his

watery potato salad with sweet pickle relish.

Umm. Can't quite appreciate.

We'll be by on Monday, Memorial Day to help with the yard and whatever

else you need to have done.

 



On Losing my Father May 19.

 

Sunday MAY 19

 

We're up camping this weekend.

Dad's not doing well.

I say I'll be over on Sunday afternoon to help with the garden.

My Father's garden is is passion. It's about all he has left.

He can't drive, can't walk far.

My sister is taking him to the Railroad musuem on Tuesdays.

It's just too far for him to walk the 2 blocks.

 

I say, I can help get you to the museum.

He says. Tuesday was my last day.

I was so tired when I got home.
I just went to bed.

Two people who came through the mail car asked if I am ok.

Guess it's time to retire.

He says I sent a letter. I won't be back next week.

Wow, Dad, I know how much you loved it there.

 

His lush spring garden is gone. There just a few onions,

beets that didn't, bulb. Radishes are gone, lettuce has gone to head.

He says, I want your to thrown away all the plastic containers, anything I didn't pay for. Yogurt containers, pots, six pack. He says save the felt buckets.

We can sell them at the next garage sale.

He's through with his garden.

 

He says I can't bend over anymore.

 

I am in tears.

I take out out a big bag of pots.

I am sobbing by the time I get back. Daddy, this garden is your passion.

We hug. He says we knew it would come someday.

Well, I say, I'd rather share the tears while you are alive, share the memories.

Let's get back to work.

 

I cry, we hug. He cries. I take out more pots.

He says, take some onions.

I cry. It's not the onions.

 

How are the beets? he says. Did they bulb?

No Daddy.

No more beets, not more peas, spring peas are gone.

No more lettuce, or radishes or onions.

He drove to a nursery late
April and got 4 tomato plants and a cuke.

That is all that is left in the garden except some onions, some weeds

and beets that never grew.

 

I'll be back next week I say, on Monday.

I think, I'll offer to drive him to the nursery,

get some plants for the pots on the fence rail.

All his plants are dying. 

An early Father's Day gift.

New plants for the pots on the rail.

Daddy, I love you.

 

 

 

 



MY POPS IS TOPS

When I was 7 years old, that would be 1957, we lived in
Cheney, Washington just outside of Spokane.

My dad taught at the local elementary school, where I also attended school.

I could get away with nothing.

In the first grade, I ate white and gray library paste out of the giant jar while I was sitting under one of the wooden tables in the library. I still remember the creamy white paste in the middle of the jar and the slightly crusty gray paste on the edges.

I thought no one could see me. Alas, my eating habits did not go unnoticed.  One night, my dad gently suggested that eating paste out of a jar in the library was not something I should do in the future.

I am sure he and my mom were mortally embarrassed.

I was, a could be best described,
as a round child and was certainly not lacking for any nutritional needs.

However, thinking back on that episode,

it may explain why I am willing to eat just about anything now.

 

Each year before Father's Day the Spokane newspaper sponsored a writing contest.

Sons and daughters could write an essay into the newspaper and describe why

MY POPS IS TOPS.

Winning essays would be published in the paper and the father and child would be given free tickets to a Spokane Indians AAA baseball game. 

 

I got out my solid- and dotted-line penmanship tablet and my stubby fat pencil and penned an essay.

I'm not sure what I said.

I'm pretty sure it didn't mention how kind my father was when requesting I refrain from eating library paste in the future.

It probably mentioned how much I loved him.

On Father's Day, if I remember correctly, the winning essays were published.

I won, I won.

There was my essay published in Spokane's Spokes-man Review.
He and I went to the baseball game, father and daughter together.

So dad, I'll be thinking of you this Father's Day. In my book
MY POPS IS STILL TOPS.
Love you Dad.