It has been one year since I got the bad news. I had worked all day and after work I had stopped off at the bank, and then went to the local watering hole and had a beer, a friendly acquaintance met me there and we talked about the local teams work and I went home. When I got home I was told that my dad had suffered a stroke and was up at the hospital. My wife and I went up to the hospital, the stroke had happened shortly after noon, my dad was awake but was not communicating. We talked to the doctor, other family was already there. The doctor explained things about the stroke, how it could go one way or the other. My dad had not been feeling well lately, he had been urged to see a doctor, but he had resisted the idea. I had talked to him and he was adamant about he had just some flu and was feeling better. He looked pretty good, and we had talked for a few hours. I could talk to my dad about anything. When I was younger he represented the land of the giants to me, He epitomized strength and what a man should be. He was always polite to the ladies, and he never complained. We had our issues as I was growing up, but I had long ago decided that growing up was a process that was bound to have some parts seem offensive, just part of the way things are. After the stroke, I was sure that the man who was strength and courage would recover, he had broken a hip a few years before, he had survived prostate cancer, he was still active, had a good sense of humor, and still cared about things, he shaved every day, wore clean clothes, had a routine that he was comfortable in. Friday turned to saturday, more family members came, dad had a large number of children, all that were nearby came, saturday the nurse told us that he was stableizing and that the brain swelling seemed to be under control. Late saturday we went home expecting that we would see more improvement, early sunday morning the nurse called, that he was struggling. we went back up to the hospital, he was now in a coma, and had oxygen. late sunday I went back home. Monday I got dressed for work, and stopped up at the hospital early, I went in and talked to dad, they say that a person in a coma does not understand, but I told him I would come by after work, that I loved him. Monday morning the call came into work, hurry up to the hospital, I got there just as he had died. A single tear had come from his eye the first tear that I had ever seen him cry. One of dads sayings as I was growing up was " a bad case of dying, will put a man in bed for days", he had lived that saying, when he was sick he would not complain, he had suffered thru two divorces and those I think threw him tho he was never one to air his feelings. Now it has been a year, I will not lie, I miss him, he always encouraged me to be strong and stand upright on my feet and to look people in the eye, to never be a liar or a thief, to be kind to animals and to do what you say you are going to do. At the funeral he was shown great respect, men he had worked with for forty years told me stories, I listened but I had heard those stories before. His cematary plot is in a small corner near a busy intersection, years ago it was the far outskirts of the town, his memorial has a pipe wrench and a cat pictured on it. Dad had always loved cats and was a pipe fitter for his whole life. I used to tease him he was a yellow dog democrat, that if the democrats ran a yellow dog for an office he would rather vote for the yellow dog than a republican. He used to say, I am not a member of any organized political party, I am a democrat. Now it has been a year, his house is empty, everything scrubbed and cleaned, it is up for sale and his last tax returns have to be filed and once the house sells the estate closed. I miss him, but I wonder about that tear... the only tear I ever saw him cry, as he died. I think that when he died he saw those who he loved that had passed before him, he once told me that all his friends had died, he did not have a cat the last five years or so, his mom and dad, his grandpa and grandma his pets. I think that love is stronger than death, and I think that my dad is with those he loved, and who loved him. We talked about love a few times, love is a great mystery, it is said it is what makes the world go round. Dad was loved. Thank you dad, thanks for the hobby, thank you for all the things you passed down, and someday perhaps we will sit down and talk and laugh again.
So sorry to hear about your dad. I think its great you looked up to him. I try and be close with mine but he puts up a block due to so many others in his family & friends have hurt him. He isnt getting younger himself but he is a alcoholic. I worry all the time about him. Reading your blog makes me want a closer relationship but he doesnt try unlike I.
Reading your blog almost brought a tear to my eye. My father is a retired army man and lets just say he was very very stict growing up. I of course rebeled and moved out at 17 thinking I new more about life in my 17 years than he did in all of his. After a bunch of failures and mistakes, my dad welcomed me back with his love and our bond has grown stornger and stronger. My dad is honestly my best friend. We talk every day and I dont know what i would do without him in my life. I just hope my son and I have the bond that my dad and I do. If I can be half the man my father is then I would have lived a very succesfull life. I know it is hard but I am sure that when you are that close to someone that they are always with you in heart and spirit.
I'm sorry to hear about the loss of your Dad, Chip. I lost my dad in 2002, we were never all that close, but I still miss him. Sometimes, I will just be going along living my life as normal and I'll think of my dad and wonder what he would have said or done, or just be sad that I can't talk to him anymore.
Some day I will understand your pain in loss, for my Dad and I are on a similar road. Many are the ways we seek comfort and peace, keep looking and you will find what you need, hold fast when you find it. Your words here are another step in the grief recovery process. Thank you for your courage to speak your mind. Rather puts the whole scratching for another coin thing in proper perspective. May you and yours be blessed.
