Coming out of a Fog...

October 2009

After doing close to 300 blog posts on this thing over the last couple years and almost never being 'out of words' (just ask Adam..), I've struggled big.time. in writing this post. I've thought through it, edited paragraphs/themes/details in my mind, jotted ideas down on paper...and hated every one of them. So, I'll just write whatever comes to mind right now.
My dad died almost 2 months ago. It sucks. Like, really sucks. And, 3 sentences into this post, I'm wishing I was curled up on my couch watching a movie, or snuggled in bed pretending it's all been a nightmare...but, instead I 'got out' of the house for a couple hours and am sitting in Panera Bread crying at our laptop. Smooth, right? I guess there are worse things than the stares of a few strangers at 8pm on a Wednesday...
Anyway, I never mentioned anything on the blog about my dad being sick, but most of our friends knew a least a little of what was going on anyway...but this post is for me. and my kids someday. I wasn't sure I was going to continue any part of this blog- it just felt cheap and obnoxious to keep sharing all the fun little things about life, family, etc.. when there was all of a sudden a huge hole in our lives. and I didn't, and still don't, really know how to deal with it. However, in the last few weeks I've thought, on several occasions, "That would be a cool picture for the blog..." but I didn't want to continue posting fun, simple, life stuff without acknowledging the hard stuff, too. So, here it is.
Losing a parent is horrible. Absolutely, positively, more-than-I-could've-imagined, painfully, horrible. And right now I really wish I was a great writer! I use lots of .... (dot, dot, dots...) and commas...and lots of broken thoughts. I wish I could communicate how great my dad was, how kind he was, how insanely intelligent he was, and how much I miss him. It's not a 'miss him' like I miss Adam when he is out of town for a weekend or how I 'miss' college roommates that I haven't seen in way too long. It's a deep-in-your-soul, earthquake-rattling-the-foundation, kind of sadness. I feel like I've kind of lost a couple months of my own life. I know that I've covered the basics of mommy-hood, carpools, crafting times with kids, etc... but I feel like I've been in a fog. Not a deep and dark hopelessness, just a cloudy, gloomy, man-i-hate-this, kind of thing.
I loved my dad. and he knew that. We talked a couple times a week for the last several years. He LOVED asking about our kids and usually called within hours of a blog post going up to talk about whatever I'd just shared online. I'm not sure he EVER commented on here, but I know he would check in several times a day to make sure he didn't miss anything. I loved that. We had the JOY (ok, it wasn't totally joy at the time, but it was good) of spending some extended time with him over the last few years. When Elise was 6 months old, we came back from Japan for a couple months and stayed with him in Cincinnati. He was able to visit us in Japan for a week in Spring 2007 and there are some memories from that week that are so vivid and happy. He got to sit in the Captain's seat on the USS KittyHawk (picture completed by "making a call" down to the Air Boss or someone important on the ship!). In between Japan and South Carolina, Elise and I lived at his house for about 6 weeks. I was super pregnant with Ainsley, Adam was deployed, and my mom was in Florida for awhile. My dad would sit, FOR HOURS, and just watch Elise play. He would hand her anything to make her smile and laugh -however inappropriate- his cell phone, a dictionary, kitchen utensils, a back scratcher (uhhh...gross.), and she loved it. Elise, around that time, coined the name "Bacca"...for "Grandpa". The rest of the family laughed at it's obvious closeness to "Chewbacca", but we knew immediately that he was Bacca from then on. He loved his grandchildren and, in the one quick visit I made to his office before I left Cincinnati after the funeral, you'd have thought he had 20 grandkids by the number of pictures on the walls. Elise, Ainsley, Mitchell, and Evan were well represented and 'shown off', for sure.
I think he probably knew he was sick for a long time. I think he knew it was UGLY when the cancer diagnosis came in early September. Nobody expected him to die in just over 2 short months, but I also don't think he FEARED death. In the last couple of weeks, he stopped taking phone calls, checking emails/texts/etc... and I'm assuming it's because it just made him sad to hear his kids' voices, see updates about grandchildren that he was never going to see start Kindergarten, or worry about things that he could no longer help out with. But he knew that his wife and kids loved him, he knew that he had people around him supported him (on so many fronts!) and cared for him, and I so so so so hope that he knew what a positive impact HE had on so many people.
One phrase that kept coming up when we were all together in Cincinnati for the funeral and Thanksgiving was, "good people." Often used with incorrect grammar to express our appreciation of the literally HUNDREDS of people who came by the house, dropped off food, send cards, babysat my kids, we'd say, "so-and-so...wow, he's good people." From one neighbor who stopped their car in the middle of the street and reversed a few houses to come over immediately upon hearing of his death to one of my dad's life-long best friends who held his hand and sat with him in the last few hours of life and leaned in close as my dad whispered, "Denny, it feels weird...it's not what you'd think.", to the long-time co-worker and friend who held him closely and sat with him in the in-home hospital bed as he was having a panic attack and couldn't breathe. Add in a friend of my brother Paul's who drove up from North Carolina for just a few hours to be at the visitation, one of my dearest friends who flew from New Hampshire to spend 48 hours supporting me, another wonderful friend who diverted a family trip to swing by the funeral home for just an hour with her husband and beautiful children, and the dozens of Kelly's friends who showed up en masse at the visitation. All good people. And I don't mean that lightly. It seems almost trite to say 'good' when these people are LOVING, GENEROUS, THOUGHTFUL, and ENCOURAGING, but 'good' in this sense means way more than I can explain. I feel like my dad has FOR YEARS used that phrase to discuss people he works with, friends from AA, etc... he'd throw it out there when someone went above-and-beyond kind of thing, "that guy who drove 2 states away to do XYZ...he's good people." I truly, truly can say that I've never felt so comforted and supported in my life. And it doesn't totally surprise me. BLESS ME?? YES!!!!!! SURPRISE ME? No. Because my dad was GOOD PEOPLE. He loved others, he served others, he made business decisions to help out others instead of himself. He supported people and cared for them, he was faithful, loyal, focused, and generous. He was able to look beyond his own Harvard MBA degree and the oil-stained coveralls that his employees or co-workers wore and honestly appreciate people. And that's why some of those same people showed up at his visitation, in their greasy coveralls or whatever, and supported us and him. 'Good People' follow 'Good People' and my brothers and I are trying pretty hard to follow the Good People that my dad was.
We miss him deeply, my kids miss him, my birthday (3 days after the funeral), Thanksgiving, Christmas, etc... all kind of sucked this year. I know that will get a smidge better. I KNOW he raised us to be strong, intelligent, focused people and that our lives will be a reflection of him. And I think we're doing a pretty good job of reflecting him well. But it's hard, and it'll be that way for awhile. And I know the same God that held him tightly at the end of his life as he told a friend, "it's not what you'd think..." welcomed my dad into Eternity where there is NO SUFFERING, NO FEAR, and NO PAIN is the same God that holds me tightly these days, too.
So, all that to say that I'm learning a lot, I'm coming out of the fog a little, and I'm so thankful for the many, many, many people who've loved my family lately. Thanks for calls, emails, texts, prayers, cards, meals, donations to Hospice in my dad's name, etc... each and every one of them was appreciated, even if you didn't get a thank you card or email... I think this 'process' is going to take awhile but we are extremely thankful that you are in our lives.


On the Kitty Hawk. Spring 2007
Japan, Spring 07
Holding Mitchell for the first time. Halloween 2009

Christmas 2010

March 2010