Sunday, August 5, 2012

I remember...

  • Super short short shorts and soaking wet-with-sweat hugs
  • Marvelling at how it was even possible to run a 7 minute mile
  • Many, many trips to George Wythe High School's track where I would fill my role as "rabbit" 
  • Being presented with fallen leaves raked into a military fomation in the hopes I would get interested in the Civil War (only my sister ever "got it")
  • Long talks riding in the car whenever there was a serious topic at hand
  • His shaving in the car every morning with his electric razor
  • Bringing home many puppies over the years against my mother's will and then placing them in her arms guaranteeing their place in our family
  • Being awakened early on Saturday mornings to the Beach Boys blaring (ususally Barbara Ann or Help Me Rhonda) while he danced beside my bed
  • When he gave me a small pink bell with the words "Ring if you need me" 
  • Driving through the night perched up over the front seat, while my mother and sister slept, to Florida, Rhode Island or Vermont
  • My parents sleeping on the Florida beaches while we played
  • That moment several years ago when I realized I could no longer go to him for advice. Our roles shifted that day
  • When he cried with me at the Outer Banks and expressed his frustration with his body
  • Hiking up to the Lake of the Clouds in the wet season
  • Sleeping in Taft Lodge up on the mountain
  • Our last hike when he could not make it to the shelter. We slept out in the open, I carried his pack and cared for him and was never so grateful to have the help of strangers in my life as I was on the way back down
  • How much fun it was to ride in the back of that convertible MG...and his horror, when after buying another and agreeing to left me drive, when I didn't realize the pedals were so close together and hit 2 pedals at once
  • Riding down here on the move from Vermont. I felt so pround to ride in the truck with the men and my kitty
  • How accepting he has always managed to be of everyone - even when he did not agree
  • Being so happy for him when his (national) employer inducted him to the Hall of Fame and so grateful he was well enough to see and enjoy it
  • How he's sneak PB&J sandwiches to my eldest when she would refuse to eat what was served in favor of going to bed hungry...Whenever she got in trouble she's yell, "Save me Pop-Pop!" and he always would
  • Going in to assess foreclosed homes with him
  • Thinking it was silly, then awesome as I aged, that he helped his customers move into their 1st homes on move day
  • How the door is always open and he is always, if not happy, at least polite to any and everyone who wants to visit
  • weeding in what seemed like a huge garden
  • How brave he was every time crickets swarmed out of the shed
  • Traipsing along in the magical path he created when he mowed the lawn
  • Super Bowl parties with his friends
  • Being "dragged"all over Gettysbug many times
  • The Baseball Hall of Fame
  • Going grocery shopping every time he and my Mom fought to give her time to cool off
I have so many good memories of my Father and there is no way to capture them all. He's stopped eating now and is cutting back on liquid. His breathing is labored, there are other physical changes and his time here is short. He is getting a small dose of morphine every 4 hours which is visibly helping his breathing and helping him relax. Friends are coming to say good-bye. The door alarm keeps announcing people coming and going when there is no one there.  My father is dying and my heart is breaking. Not because I don't want to let him go and not because I want to keep him here in this state. Because I already miss him so much and know I will continue to.

Hopefully I will quickly get to the pace where I did with my Grandmother. It's like she never left. I just don't get to see her every day.


  1. Very nice, thanks for sharing.

  2. I lost my Dad in July. I was lucky to have him in my life on a such a regular basis for the past 4 years - and on an almost daily basis the past 6 months. He watched our son three days a week for years. In many ways, he was my best friend. And then in a blink - he was gone. I still struggle everyday with the loss - I had no idea how hard this was going to be. I cried reading your memories here. They were good tears. Thank you for posting. I will send all my thoughts, prayers and healing energy to Dena. It sounds like she has a great prognosis.