The Packers had won the Super Bowl the night before. I was in the shower getting ready for work and didn't hear the phone ring. Tom told me that my mom had just called and that she had found my dad dead.
Not MY dad.... Tom's dad was the one who was so ill and the call we expected... Crying in disbelief, a terrible sound reminiscent of two other occasions where I was told about the deaths of my beloved grandma and grandpa.
I couldn't wrap my mind around it...couldn't think...but somehow got through the calls that had to be made to my principal and my brother. Tom left to pick up Jessica and go out to my mom's. Posting on Facebook let a lot of people know of the situation, and brought one of my best friends to my door on her way to work.
It all felt so surreal but somehow my mind kicked in to things that needed to be dealt with...or so I thought.
Brittany wanted to let her teachers at school know and I went to Evansville to write sub plans for the week.
Should I have gone directly to my mom's? Should I have been there with my dad's body?
Why hadn't I called and talked to him that past week? Brittany was dealing with "whys and what ifs" of her own and I needed to be strong for her, and for Jessica, and for my mom. So thankful for Tom who supported us all!
The whole day was a blur...
I felt the prayers of friends, took great comfort from Facebook messages and iChats, but by that afternoon it seemed unreal that we were all sitting in the funeral home making decisions about the obituary, thank you cards, flowers, and all the arrangements.
It's been a year since that day. The grief journey is difficult...so many facets, roles, and emotions emerging at unexpected times. I am changed...
Yet God has been so faithful to our family, and to me.
I don't wish him back... I can honestly say that! I have the assurance that he is in Heaven, free from the debilitating effects of Parkinsons' Disease. For Dad, the suffering is over.
For me, the missing continues.
I wish to hear my dad's voice on the phone say "Kathy, this is your dad" which always made me laugh because Caller ID had already alerted me to who it was on the other end! I wish I could sit and talk with him about anything and everything like I did all those years. I wish I could see his smile and hear the stories he used to tell me about his family. My dad cared about people, he was a good listener, and their stories mattered to him. I hope that I carry on that legacy.
I see him in my mind and in my heart, in my daughters, in the mirror...
and will always remember that Monday morning...
