Apr 08

My first dream about my Dad.

My Life View Comments

I frequently have very vivid and memorable dreams. Since my Dad died, I haven’t dreamt of him once, which I did not expect.

It was early Tuesday morning, the alarm went off at the normal time of 5:15am and James and I decided to sleep in a bit that day. After we decided to go back to sleep I was in a slumber – sleeping but 100% aware of it. You know that transition phase? I was soon startled completely awake, at the sound of my dad’s voice saying “Hi Coupche”, (a common term of endearment he had for me).

I SWEAR i heard it.  It was more like he was in the room and I was sleeping, not that he said it in my dream.

I was startled but not scared. My eyes shot open and each muscle in my body tightened. I froze to keep as still as possible, to listen. To listen because maybe I would hear it again.

I told my brother the story and he said that he hopes that Dad was there. I responded that I dont. I hope he’s having fun in heaven and not stuck watching me sleep.

Tagged with: • •
Sep 23

4 Worst Things Said (or done) at the Funeral

My Life View Comments

Some people have the knack for comfort. Some people know when they don’t have the knack and just shut their faces and give you a hug. Then there are some people who have no filters and say the absolutely worst thing for the moment. This is that list of those people.

4. Who is that girl sitting over there?

Remember my friend Maaike, who was so amazing to come and visit me during this crappy time? Yeah, well, cousins of my uncle (Dad’s brother) saw her sitting in the crowd and thought it would be a great idea to try and set her up with their son. So, while in the receiving line, instead of consoling my uncle, they tried to set them up.

I feel very sorry for their son and whoever he ends up marrying.

3.  At least he’s out of his misery.

I wonder if this was ‘lost in translation’ but no one wants to hear it like this…especially my Mom, who spent the last 6 months making my Dad the most comfortable man in the world. She gave her soul to him, trying to help him die in peace and with dignity. And she did help him, more than God ever could.

2. Touching my brother’s forehead and patting his belly.

Doesn’t sound too bad eh? Let me give you some context. A childhood friend of mine and my brother’s was a passive aggressive bully. You know the type – picked on kids younger and smaller but always made it seem like a big joke so that he couldn’t get in trouble. This was that guy and he had it out for my big brother John. It didn’t help that our friend’s older brother ALWAYS stood up for John. Or that his mother always compared him to John. But hey, kids will be kids, right?

Wrong. This guy, nearly 25 years later, walks up to my brother, IN LINE at the funeral home, and touches John’s forehead, makes a comment about a (non-existent) receding hair line and then proceeds to pat him on the belly and gives an evil chuckle.

Really, man? I mean…our Dad just passed away. Really? You STILL need to be a bully?

The ironic part is that our old childhood friend is, himself, a fat, bald guy. He’s only a year older than my brother and he looks 10 years older. I guess that’s what happens to you when you are a mean person. Life just doesn’t agree with you.

I just need to add that I DO NOT have anything against fat, bald guys…but I do have an issue with passive aggressive hypocrite jackasses.

1. You won’t ever get to share your grandchildren with your father now.

Was this the most comforting thing this woman could think of? Remind me of one of the greatest joys in the world and how I’ll never be able to experience it? Yeah? THAT’s what you decided on saying?

Thanks for reminding me lady…I almost forgot how shitty this is.

Tagged with: • •
Sep 12

Empty Bed

My Life View Comments

For some reason when I first walked into the house after they took my Dad’s body I was surprised to see an empty bed. I don’t know why I was surprised, and perhaps that’s the wrong word for it, but I had to take a second to process that it was empty.

And soon the bed will be gone and there will be more emptiness to fill the emptiness that is already there. I feel like the hadron collider switched on in my gut.

The funeral home had a plush, velvet body bag to take him away in. Velvet, yes. I wanted to take a picture of it but thought better of it.

My mom was there when he died and she said it was very peaceful. He opened his eyes wide, took a deep breath, took another deep breath and it was over. My mom was holding one hand and his brother held the other. I’m glad he wasn’t alone. I’m glad my mom wasn’t alone.

I’m not sure if I’m relieved or just numb, but I’m handling this pretty good. I’m certain I will cry soon, and cry hard, because I cry at everything. But not this. Not yet.

It has been wonderful sharing stories with all the family and friends that have been by. Like how my Dad could eat a loaf of bread in one sitting and not even flinch (and he was fit, not fat). Or how he would complain that the coffin was too expensive and suggest that he build one instead.

I bet if he had had the energy he would have.

Tagged with: • •
Previous Entries Next Entries
preload preload preload