Dad

We've pinpointed it down to dad dying around 5:30 am. Lady, mom and dad's dog came to wake up mom, and the only time she does that is when she can't get my dad to wake up to let her out. It wasn't until later in the day that mom realized that Lady doesn't wake them up at that hour to go out. Mom got up thinking Dad must be in the bathroom, and so she didn't put her glasses on and walked through the dark house and let Lady out. She went back to bed and laid down, and wondered where Dad was, though she remembered that he would take my son to work (he goes to work about 15 till 4 am and Dad gets back around 4 or 4:05-4:10) and then he gets into his chair and falls back asleep.

Dad for a few years has gotten up and gone to sleep in his chair in the night, having trouble breathing, or with his legs or chest hurting. Lady would not stop yipping and barking, and so Mom got back up and let him in and looked for my dad, finally seeing a glimpse of him in the chair, since the living room was very dark. He was laying back in the chair with his mouth open (not unusual) but he wasn't snoring which is usual, and she knew something was wrong. She tried to wake him up and he wouldn't rouse, which usually he will and it'll scare you to death because he startles awake.

She grabbed the phone and called me at precisely 5:37 am and was crying that she couldn't get Dad to wake up. I had been up for 7 minutes, having woke up at 5:30 and sent my youngest daughter into the shower. I immediately said, "We're on our way." I got the youngest out of the shower (she didn't even rinse all the conditioner out of her hair) woke the others and they rushed and got dressed and we were out the door, breaking the speed limit to get there. When we pulled up the fire department and ambulance were there and they had my father on the floor. The heart monitor was flatlining but they were working frantically on him. As we came through I heard one of the men say, "we gotta save this guy, come on we gotta save this guy".

They worked tirelessly before the head boss called them for a stat report and told them to stop, that he was gone. When I got there the lead of them told me that Dad couldn't have been dead for very long because his head was cold and his body was still warm. He was pronounced officially dead at 6:04 am even though they had kept working on him after that. I have images in my head that I do not think will ever leave. I had to be strong for my mother and the kids and I refused to let myself break. We got a hold of my son at work and was finally able to get a way for him to be brought over, my brother and his girlfriend went to get him.

My son said that it was like any other morning and that his grandpa had seemed fine, and then he began blaming himself, because of Dad working late the night before and then getting up at 3 am to take him to work, and that it was all his fault, that if he wasn't there, his grandpa would still be alive. And officers talked to him, firefighters, my brother, mother, myself, he kept blaming himself. He fell asleep crying and we let him rest while we dealt with all that was happening. A detective had to be called, as is per standard rule, to rule out foul play and of course it was. And the man was very nice, everyone had been incredible, very solemn and understanding, and each and ever person who came, whether it be a policeman, firefighter, or mortuary worker, recognized my dad from hardware at wal-mart, the guy who mixes their paint and is so friendly.The mortuary didn't get there for a good hour or more, and dad was on the living room floor covered by a blanket all that time, and it was horrible. He would not have wanted to be kept there that long, with his family grieving. But because of how early it was, people weren't up and so it took some time.

They came though, and they took him, and I wanted to grab him and not let him go. We had to answer all kinds of questions, but the man from the mortuary was very nice and compassionate. I had asked the lead firefighter who is also a paramedic if my dad had any pain. He said that when they walked in my dad's hands were folded in his lap and he looked as if he were sleeping, which didn't show any signs of struggle or like he grasped his chest, just that he went to sleep. He felt that Dad's heart just stopped and that was it, and he said everyone wants to go that way, everyone hopes they can. He didn't feel Dad had any pain at all, he just shut down.

We went to the mortuary at 1:30 and went through paperwork necessary, and it was horrible, not how they treated us, but having to go through this. Picking out an urn, and the container for cremation itself. It is wrong and unnatural, to have to make choices like this for someone you love and believe that nothing has happened, that at some point you're going to wake up and it was all just a horrible nightmare.

Just the evening before Dad was working on his brakes on his little car and my youngest was in the front seat helping him, she'd pump the brakes after he bled them and he was so proud of her and saying what a great help she was. He seemed tired, but nothing unusual as he worked that day. And he walked us out to the van that night when we left and he seemed fine, laughing with us, and saluting (a nightly ritual) and we were talking and he said, hey you know.... And I had had to turn around to tell the kids to shhh, I couldn't hear and when I turned back and what were you going to say...he gave me this goofy look and said, I don't remember, I'll have to tell you tomorrow... and he laughed. And he always bangs on the windows as I am driving away, kind of knocking and then waving to us as we drive away. I would go real slow until I could no longer see him in my rear view mirror as he walked back up to the house.

There was no tomorrow. I do not know what he was going to say. We had been talking about how beautiful the stars were, and news..it could have been anything.

We saw him after the paperwork, laying on a table in the chapel, and he looked as though he were just sleeping. I wanted to shake him awake, wanted to get him warm, he was so cold. And he looked as if any moment his eyes would open and say, thank god you woke me, they made a huge mistake. But he didn't move, even though numerous of us swore we could see his chest rise and fall... he didn't open his eyes. And he would have been so angry that we were standing around crying over him. He didn't want anyone viewing him after he died, but we had to see him one more time. We had to go against his wishes and see him, tell him we loved him. Touch him one last time. Mom and I didn't want the last memory to be dad laying on the living room floor covered up with a blanket. We didn't want to say our words to him like that. Or have the kids see him there on the floor with how he looked with his mouth open. The mortuary bathed him and set his mouth so it wasn't open anymore.

I do not regret it, the choice to go against his wishes and see him. I saluted him one last time and I was the last person to leave the chapel and as I got to the corner I turned to him and said... Good night, Dad. I love you. Whenever one of us is away, before we go to sleep each night, or before we leave wherever they are, we say, Good night (and their name). It was something started when my son was taken away from us. It's become a tradition. I don't know how to adapt to this. I don't want to and I think that is what makes it hard. I don't want to be without my dad. My parents and I are very very close. I don't want to give up my time with him. I know he went how he wanted to, but I am angry that he didn't know ahead of time, though I think he has been trying to go for awhile in the same manner, but one of us was always there shouting at him to wake up. I am not angry as in holding a grudge, angry at life, angry at the cycles of life. Angry at being powerless to stop it.

He wanted to live to see my son home. He wanted to see him free. At least he got to have my son home with them since October, I thank whatever power that is, that helped in that. He wanted to see the baby... he was hoping it was a girl. He was looking forward to little ballerina outfits and frilly dresses and sharing goodies. He really loves my kids, loves his grandchildren very very much. We'd come over and his whole being would light up. He wanted to see me and my boyfriend together. He wanted to see us together under one roof and happy, wanted to embrace him as a son, and I wish it could have come true while dad was alive to see it.

I think of all the things ahead and how much I am going to miss my Dad being there. It's empty and strange. And I am afraid mom isn't far down the lane of being next. They would have been married 44 years in June. We've been going over everyday and clinging to each other and I hope with all my soul that it helps her, that it keeps her going.

My father and I used to dream we could fly. We'd sit around and compare our dreams. Wednesday, my father got his wings.

-J