476 & 365

It is hard to believe it that this coming Sunday, August 30th will be 1 year since mom died. It will also be 476 days since dad died.

There are few days when I don’t think of them. But they are rare. There are moments of panic when I think, “Crap, I haven’t talked to mom in a long time. I should call her” Then it hits me. It is getting easier, but very slowly. There was/is a numbness about both my parents being gone. That is starting to fade and at times it is harder now then when they first passed.

Sure, I make jokes about my parents being dead all the time. That is how I deal with bad things. I’m still not Batman. WTF!?

I have the most remarkable friends and family that have helped me through this past 476 days. Thank you!!

Love you all.

Doug

My dad

I got the phone call I did not want, but was expecting. My father passed away.

He was diagnosed with acute leukemia last November. He tried chemotherapy but it had little effect. He had many blood transfusions (thank you donors). More recently he developed congestive heart failure, pneumonia and a subdural hematoma from falling out of bed.

It was time and he was ready. We all were, but it is still really fucking hard.

My dad was 84 at the time of his passing on Sunday May 11th. My mom is 82 and they celebrated their 63 wedding anniversary in March. I am the youngest of 4. I have a brother and two sisters. They were all amazing during this whole process. My sisters both took time off work to take dad to chemotherapy and other doctors appointments. My oldest sister handled dad’s meds, grocery shopping for mom and dad. They have shown me what family is. True heroes. My brother flew his family in from California and was there holding dad’s hand when he took his last breath. My dad was preceded by one of his sisters and is survived by another sister and a brother.

Most of my dad’s life was spent making custom cabinets and woodworking at a small business he shared with a partner. I remember going to work with him many times when I was younger. Helping sweep the shop, installing cabinets and being an extra pair of hands when he needed them. I will always love the smell of fresh cut wood.

Dad was a story teller and had a wonderful sense of humor. It was this that led to my first realization that I was like my dad. When I was in my early teens, this thought terrified me. Now I understand how lucky I am. The day before he passed away he pulled a joke on the four of us by pretending to be dead for a few moments. We all laughed and cried.

About a week ago, we were visiting my dad and he was telling us some stories from his Air Force days. He mostly did wood working while in the service. He was stationed in Chicago and has a picture of the Enola Gay when it was there. Some of this stories I had never heard before. It made me so happy to hear them, it also broke my heart that these stories would be gone. I wondered what other stories we had not heard.

Dad would give you the shirt off of his back and then anything else you might need. Like my sister said today, he was a simple man that had an extraordinary life. He was deeply loved by all that knew him.

I was very fortunate to have some time off between jobs and get to spend extra time with my dad during this time. Before I left him at the hospice for the last time, I told him he was an amazing father and thanked him for everything. The last words I said to him were “I Love You”

I am lucky to have had him as a father and luckier still to be like him.

Doug

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