Remembering My Father

I received an early morning phone call on 3/28/12 that my father (69) passed away.   It was a bit of a surprise; he had survived several risky surgeries rife with complications – he had been home about 3 weeks after rehabilitating from his last one in November.   On this day he died within 20-30 minutes of his last contact and was found quite quickly.   I believe he didn’t want to die alone or wanted to be found right away.

Due to surprise and the time difference with Ohio, I had trouble understanding what was being said to me.  In fact, I thought I was having a horrible dream!   As reality set in, phone calls were made, decisions put into motion…

My father lived alone having never remarried after his divorce from my mother in the early 70’s.  He was retired from a blue collar job and had become isolated due to his health.   We visited often over the last couple of years but it wasn’t for vacation.  Being an only child, my dad relied on me to take care of legal, financial, and medical matters.  Last summer, as if he knew, he asked me to ship a majority of his “treasures” to Colorado.   My dad had begun to take care of things… my dad had started preparing.

I wasn’t ready!  This 46 year old just wanted to throw a tantrum and rebel.  Many times I told my husband, “Lets just go home, I don’t want to do this.”  But I found strength in his friends and the tasks before me.  I made peace that he was no longer suffering.  I realized I could still hear him and his fatherly sage.

As we went through his remaining belongings a few weeks ago, we found lost memories, messages of instruction, and a few surprises.   This treasure hunt was a real look into the last years of my fathers life.  It was obvious how his mind worked and what he valued in his days.   We always shared a close relationship but I feel even closer to him now in an odd way.

He wasn’t simply a father, he was my hero, the model for each man I meet.  He had faults and grace, he was strong and weak, he was loved and hated, he ornery and dedicated, but most of all – he will be missed.

RIP R.E.A.