My dad died two years ago today.
A couple of years ago I bought a hand held tape recorder to carry with me. There are so many times when my mind is wandering or I get ideas about things and am not able to write them down. Especially when I am driving. I haven't used the recorder in quite some time because I had filled the tape and kept forgetting to grab a new one. I pulled it out a few weeks ago to listen to what was on it.... the very first recording is on April 16th, 2010. Six months after my dad died. The recording was about my dad, his death. The fact that it was six months... it was a Friday. It was the 16th of the month. A "double whammy" as I called it in my recorded journal. The really ironic thing was.... the day I listened to that, a few weeks ago, was on my dad's birthday. I had no idea when I pressed the play button that that was what I was about to hear... Odd huh?
I had contemplated transcribing the recording here. My mind tends to zone in on certain parts of that recording more than other areas. I thought about it a lot. And decided against it as I really listened to it. Parts of it are too graphic. Other portions are just too personal. Screaming vulnerability. No thanks.
I wondered what I would write about today. What do I want to say? I never really said anything on this blog about my dad. Lots of reasons. My mind has been all over the board today. I finally decided I would just sit down and start typing.... see where my mind, my heart, takes us. Ha... talk about vulnerability.
My dad died 5 months after Rip died. I did blog about Rip's death. ( http://matt-amandaperry.blogspot.com/2009/05/rip-dennis.html ) I loved him so much and felt like I had been kicked in the chest when he died. Rip and I had a special relationship. I still miss him, ache for him. A lot.
When my dad died, Matt was at a client's in Ludington or Manistee. About an hour away. I knew when Matt called me.... one, from a land line... and two, at 930 in the morning.... that something was wrong. Matt's voice was shaking. This man, my husband, loves me more than life itself. Beyond words. Beyond what I ever knew was possible in life. And he is fiercely protective of me. And he had to tell me what had happened. There are a lot of things I don't remember about that conversation, about that day.... or some of the days that followed. But those words.... in my husband's shaken voice.... still ring clearly in my head. They always will.
One thing I realized during all of that is that Mary Margaret, Sally and I are married to three of the finest men in the world. They truly are amazing.
It seemed almost cruel that my dad died so soon after I lost Rip. I felt like the rug had been pulled out from underneath me. There are few things in life that one cannot truly comprehend unless they have experienced it first hand. Divorce is one of them. Losing a parent is another. There are no words to describe it. The anguish is literally physical. I felt sick. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't speak in a functional manner.
Our relationship was.... hmmm. Complicated. We weren't close. We would go years at a time with no contact. I often say..... sometimes God picks us up and plops us right where we don't want to be... for the sole purpose of forcing us to see that it is exactly where we need to be. April 2005 was one of those plopping moments. It was inevitable for us to see each other. I didn't want to be around him. There was no time for deep discussions and hashing out of old problems. But it was the moment for a door to open.
It was slow going. Physical distance didn't help that. There was some turning point along the way... maybe just for me... of unspoken understandings. Old problems didn't need to be discussed. I am fairly certain that he knew I forgave him for things. I am confident that he knew I loved him. I thank Jay for that reassurance.
At the risk of sounding cold hearted.... I don't miss him in the same ways that my sisters do. For me, there isn't the void that they feel on a daily basis. He and I didn't talk that often; it's hard to miss what wasn't there. They had such a different relationship with him... very different memories. That's only natural. They were with him every day of their lives. I do think about him a lot. And I am sad when I think about him not being here; thinking about what should have been. I smile at memories and I tear up at pictures. It's just different for me. I hope they understand what I mean by that.
So what do I think about when I think about him? Especially today? I think about....
He was happy in life. Finally. And deservedly so.
He was thrilled to have THREE grandsons... BOYS!
I know he loved me.
I loved his hair.
My sisters' hearts are breaking. They are strong girls though.
He never met Caelan. That breaks my heart.
I think about the last time I had talked to him. It was one of the most spontaneous phone calls in our relationship.
His laugh and how he sorta snorted when he did.
He always said "How 'bout that?" I have found that I say that a lot as well.
How he would sit at the kitchen table all by himself... for long periods of time. In his own little world. I always wondered what what in the world went through that man's head.
I remember certain conversations we had. Just the two of us.
He thought ironing was soothing.
I'm like him in more ways than I realized.
I don't have access to the few pictures (and they are few) that I have of him... especially of he and I together. So here are some links to check out.... Mary Margaret made slide show videos last year and this year. I couldn't find the link from the funeral.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gkCEtoaYSE8&feature=BFa&list=UL0SNZOCdwmYc&lf=mfu_in_order
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