My Pops
I’ve been doing an awful lot of thinking and reflecting. I’ve got thoughts just running amuck in my head. I don’t write about this much but my father passed away the day after Christmas of ’04. I never really enjoyed putting on Christmas as an adult, although who would know why- because I surely had AWESOME childhood memories of the holidays. I believe a lot of it comes from having major depression/anxiety but after he passed away, I truly began to despise Christmas time. I have a lot of unresolved junk where that is concerned. He died of a massive brain bleed at 77 years of age.
BACK TRACK: I visited my parents every Christmas day, but that one. I had to work and was “tired”. So, I dragged my butt over there the following day with my eldest son.
My dad was concerned and said to everyone, “I have a call in to my doctor because my legs hurt really bad. Followed by, “If I stand up, they cramp instantly and are painful”. I said, “Well, pops ~ did you over-do it yesterday? (*I had heard he was in the basement fussing with his new t.v. and moving it around by himself a day earlier). He agreed that yes, he had overdone it in the basement. I chalked it all up to that. My dad had been ill for approx. 15-20 years before he passed ~ sometimes manageable but other times not –but he ALWAYS recovered. His mom lived to be over 100 years old- so silly ass me, I actually thought my dad was going to be with us for just as long, if not longer. He always recovered. He had a triple bypass surgery in 1991 and came out fine. But, toward the end, the veins and circulation in his legs are what started to bring him down. He had to have a foot partially amputated, and after that, he never got back to the “dad” we all knew and loved. I could tell his energy level was not always there but he was a wonderful man who always showed great enthusiasm whenever we would visit. Especially toward my kids which warmed my heart. Growing up, my dad was not nearly as affectionate with us. I only say that because I came from a massive family of 12 kids and he had to work, long hard hours to bring home the bacon. Mom gave out all of the lovins’. He did too, just not the same. But, to see him baby talk to my kids was a joy to me. I was so happy that he was able to loosen up as he aged. He sure ran a tight ship back in the day. But, you know what they say? You can always loosen the reigns later, but you cannot tighten them. True. Totally true.
I never took him for granted. I loved my dad with all of my heart and was constantly over there helping out and spending time with them. It’s just that… well, that day- after Christmas when he was telling us about his leg pain- we chatted for a while- he gave me a present (a navy blue throw, in a heavy corduroy fabric filled with goose down). We chatted for a bit, but my son was making “eyes” at me to leave and I wanted to go too. I had worked that last few overnights, and we had a few things to do and I was “tired” from the previous days activities.
After returning home, I received a call from my brother-in-law telling me that something had happened to my pops and to get to the hospital. He had a stroke, in the back porch room of their home, hunched over in his recliner, all by himself (mom had gone out too).
FAST FORWARD: To the hospital emergency room where we all gathered at his bedside where the Dr. initially told us to talk to him, that he could hear us. We were all talking up a storm to him. His kids and grand kids alike. After further discussion, another doctor told us he was basically “gone”. Not in those exact words, just the way it was. He was moved to the ICU where they kept him on a ventilator. After speaking with the specialist, he came into the room (where my father was surrounded by no less than 30 family members). He told us that if they were to take him off the vent, he would pass. My mom was sad. There was an organ donor liaison interested in talking to our family. We were in a waiting room with just the kids only- the problem was, that my sister from NYC still hadn’t arrived. We were waiting on her and my mom didn’t want to take him off the vent until she arrived. This donor woman seemed to be speaking in a loop. My brother cut her off and said, “Well, it doesn’t sound like you can do anything tonight so if you don’t mind, we’d like to get back to our dad”. She kept talking, again, reiterating the same jargon… That’s when some other family members ran into the room and told us to come. My father had passed away. We missed it. We did. They said that he sat all the way up and was shaking before he laid back down. My mother was heartbroken that she wasn’t holding his hand when he passed on. It is said that when you are so close with someone, you will actually feel and see their spirit pass – she wanted to actually be with him.
So, why do I struggle with this so dang much? I’ve broken it down in so many ways but the best I can come up with is because I never got to say good bye. I never got to tell him how much I loved him, what he meant to me, or what an awesome dad he was. Did he know that I loved him? Did I spend enough time with him. Did he know that I appreciated all the sacrifices’ he made to have such a large family? Does he know that although he did sacrifice I knew in my heart that HE NEVER ever felt like he got the short end of the stick, he loved us, loved his family, and did it out of love.
So, I was feeling all of this emotion balling up in the pit of my stomach when I happened upon my friend Jan’s Blog; where she has just recently suffered the loss of her grandfather. She had a poem there that she got from another blogging friend’s blog and it was:
You can shed tears that he is gone …
Or you can smile because he has lived.
You can close your eyes …
And pray that he will come back,
Or you can open your eyes …
And see all that he has left.
Your heart can be empty …
Because you can’t see him,
Or you can be full of the love …
That you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow …
And live in yesterday,
Or you can be happy for tomorrow …
Because of yesterday.
You can remember him …
And only that he is gone,
Or you can cherish his memory …
And let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind …
Be empty and turn your back,
Or you can do what he would want …
Smile, open your eyes, love, and go on……….
* In all honestly, I think I was about to lose my mind this time of year… and after reading this over and over – it makes sense. Ok, not perfect sense because my dad is not here, he is not with us. And, I miss him something fierce. But, he is gone for now. Maybe if I keep reading this poem, it can help me? I think it already has. Thank you Jan. I love you!
I’m not going to tell you anything you haven’t heard already. I really believe that when we lose someone so close to us it never really heals, we just learn how to deal with the pain. It’s a little bit depressing but when it comes down to it our parents are the only ones we will ever have and how can it be wrong to miss them so much?
xoxo
JQ, I’m so sorry you didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. I bet your dad knew how much you meant to him, but I know it is not the same. Expecially for your mom. She wanted to be there. She needed to be there.
I hope that time continues to heal the pain.
*big hugs*
Thank you dear!!! xoxoxo With encouragement I am on the right path and tryinig to look at it differently. Before I read that poem at Jan’s place, when I would think of my dad I always thought about the bitter end- not about his sweet life…. so far, this is helpful and I’m going to keep working on it. I cannot change the past, right? Right! Gotta move forward!!! xoxoxo Thanks!
Thank you for sharing your pain. I dread the day that I lose my mom.
‘Say not in grief ‘he is no more’ but live in thankfulness that he was’
Hebrew proverb
He lives on in you and in the love you shared and the things he taught you. He lives on in your children.
“Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die”.
That is so beautifully and refreshingly true Pia. All these words are the reminders that I need to hear. I am going to print these out and put them on my fridge- with the new lovely magnets that 2LD sent me. This will totally help me. What a gorgeous poem up there. Ya know, to tell the truth- I cannot stand going to the grave, I don’t feel like it’s him nor have I ever. Some people go there but I feel closest to my dad when I’m alone in my thoughts having conversations with him. I love this, thank you!
You know where I am on this. I lost my dad 13 years ago. ( I just typed that and can’t believe it’s been that long)
he always ate real slow and we just thought it was dad. He enjoyed his food. The day of his 75th birthday I had stopped over there and my mom was there alone. I said..’where’s dad?’ She said “at the hospital.” I’m like “what??” Apparently he had a choking spell and so she took him out..the admitted him and were running tests. She never called any of us and just left him over there. So I ran over there. Doctors know nothing…are running tests and will know more in the morning. So I stayed awhile and then went home. When the doctors finally got their shit together they found out he had esophageal cancer…they were going to try to operate. There were some good friends with my mom the day of the surgery so me and my sisters and the husbands showed up later. Dr finally comes up and says that they basically just shut him back up because his insides were full of cancer. I will never forget what that did to me. How the hell can he be full of cancer? He was fine..except for eating real slow. Which he did for years. 1 month and about 12 days after his b’day he passed away. And this is how they treat our veterans. My dad was a veteran. At the VA hospital they stuck him in a 4 bed room …the guy would never eat food again and so there he was with his iv while the other guys were given their meals. WTF? I was so pissed off. I let the administration know it on several occasions. It was a sad thing. Not only with the cancer but watching how the veterns are treated.
The morning my dad passed away we had gotten a call that he wasn’t doing well and that it probably wouldn’t be long. We stopped long enough to drop the kids (who were really young) off at my husbands parents house and his mom came out to meet us and I just knew what she was going to say. As we were driving to the hospital 1/2 hour away…I happened to look at the clouds and they just reminded me of my dads heart and his testimony. That guy would do ANYTHING for anybody. I collapsed in the room that they finally moved him into. OH now that the guy is gone you can give him a private room OH VERY FUCKING NICE! Thank you! What it was ok for him to smell the food but the other 3 guys in the room can’t see what this is like? So between losing it because I didn’t get to say good-bye and being pissed off and wanting to line everybody up that worked there and just beat the living shit out of them ..I was a wreck!
I HATE these holidays…I can remember the last Christmas we had and where he sat and how he kept saying how good everything was. He loved playing with the grand kids..he just loved them.
You know what I have a hard time with..I mean since we are all throwing it out here. WTF does it seem low life no goods seem to live forever? I mean some of them our money even goes to keep in their cozy little prison rooms and yet good guys like our dads are taken? My kids and I still all needed my dad.
so..you know that I know at least part of how you feel. I think everybody is still different with their experience..but we are all still connected.
I hear you, I hear you 100% This comment made my heart hurt for you Lisa. It seems to come in waves- anger, sadness, loss, tears, a mixture of all those things! I can close my eyes and hear my dad greet us when we walked into his house, always with great enthusiasm to each of us; and yes, especially his grand kids. I go back and forth but this poem seemed to have given me a lift. A whole new way to look at him and his life – gosh, it’s a daily struggle but I want to stop thinking about regrets, and guilt for not saying goodbye and wondering if he knows that I loved him so much and appreciated everything he did for us. My dad was the same as yours with regards to willingly giving the shirt off his back- to anyone… sweetest, most kind hearted man and he didn’t even know how awesome he was. He never cheated the system to get ahead and I could go on and on forever about him and what he means to me… but, yes- even though we all deal differently and it comes and goes at different times.. we are connected in that we know what it feels like so I’m glad you are there for me and I’m here for you too! Thanks Lisa. I love you!
I lost my dad in April of 2004, I think you know that…I was there for the final goodbyes and I love you’s and it has still been very difficult for me and I was at his side with the rest of the family when he passed… I am sorry you didn’t have that chance to say your goodbyes and I know how important that is. I have a tendency to ramble on about childhood memories with my dad and those always seem to make me happy.
The Holidays,in my family, are nothing like they used to be, dad’s not here, grandma’s not here, and a few other people are no longer around to enjoy this season and the family is going off in their own directions…. and we hardly see each other anymore. This upsets me a lot, but my mother told me that gramma and dad would kick our butts if we didn’t make the most of the holidays, so we do our best, but it is still hard.
My dad and I used to have a tradition between just the two of us on birthdays and Christmas…we used to buy each other a gag gift every year…I’d get him glow in the dark boxer shorts and he’d get me and electric washcloth. I got him howling wolf slippers and he got me a parrot alarm clock that most everyone wanted to kill in the mornings, but I loved it because he gave it to me. I sooooo, miss those traditions and the expressions on his face when he opened the gifts…so funny! …see I told you I ramble.
Thank you for sharing your story.and I hope you have a Merry Christmas!…and congratulations on the award that Jan gave you.
You can ramble on any old time… I love that you exchanged gag gifts! Hilarious! I’ll bet the parrot was obnoxious! heee-heeeee! A dynamic has changed in our large family as well- for example, tonight at the family party…. I didn’t go, because I don’t feel well- but the huz and kids went and just were bored to tears there. I wonder why? What has changed. It’s all “off” for some reason. I find myself not even wanting to go…. yes,… there’s a big “something” there/ or missing… yeah, that’d be my dad!!
So, it is still hard and my heart goes out to you too because we are on the same page. My mom is the glue that holds us all together. I find myself forcing myself to go to family functions just for her. Very sad! Thank you for this comment, sharing your thoughts and feelings and also- have a Merry Christmas!!!
Thank you for sharing your story with us, even though it was difficult and it made you sad. I hope it also helped you to share it. That poem is very beautiful and I am glad it helps you. I can’t tell you that I understand what it feels like to lose a parent, and I dread the chance of ever having to know. I can only say that I am so sorry for you. I do believe one important thing though, and that is that it’s better to remember his life, not his death, because that is what he’d want you to remember. And you do, of course. He had a very long life, and if it’s obvious to me how much you love him, I can’t see how it wouldn’t also be obvious to him.
I like what you wrote, it’s very simple in one sentence and it is something that I must say out loud, “remember his life, not his death” – just so powerful- way to break it down for me Laura! That’s the ticket, every time I get sad, just REMEMBER his life- he was an excellent human being- just a wonderful man…this is very helpful to me. May seem obvious to some, but you just helped me… thank you dearie!
Aw, JQ. I’m so sorry to hear all this. It’s hard to lose a parent no matter how old you are and many people get depressed around the holidays so you also have this extra burden or knowing that is the time of year that you lost your dad. It really sucks. That poem was very well written and seems appropriate that you should run across is just now. Good timing, I say. You are allowed to grieve for your dad, so don’t ever feel bad about that. Just remember to keep a balance by enjoying the ones you have while you have them too. As for not getting to tell your dad one last time you loved him, I know it feels bad, but deep down, you and he both know he knew. It takes actions over time to show love and I think you two both did that for each other so even though the words weren’t there that day, I don’t think they were really missing. You know? Also, I had no idea you were one of so many kids! I bet you have tons of interesting stories you could tell about that!
Plus seeing my mother aging, and being alone; which she does all right, but it’s not the same that he’s gone… I will enjoy the ones I have. It really puts things into perspective when you lose someone. I do have some interesting stories about growing up. Although I am #11 (of 12)- there is one younger (sister) AND my mom and dad had “chilled out” a bit by the time of our arrival so the older bro’s and sis’s will tell you that we “had it easy” or “were spoiled”- which is kinda true… maybe I will write about that! Good idea Teens!!! xoxoxoxo
Oh JQ,
I so understand so much of what you’ve written. So much of it makes real sense to me and I can so relate to it. First and foremost HUGE ((((((HUGS)))))))).
The poem had a profound affect on me too. I read it and re-read it and re-read it – and it was a turning point because I realized that Grandad really would want me to get on with life and be sad at first but not grieve continually. I am still crying every day but it is measured and I remind myself of the poem every time … and it helps me feel better. So I am so glad that you read it too – it is so hard to lose someone special at anytime and especially at Christmas.
I can relate to your feelings about not being there when your father died too – you may recall that I wasn’t told my beloved father had died until after the funeral. It broke my heart and left me with huge emotional turmoil and unresolved issues. I felt like you do, that I had not said all the things I wanted to say.
So (I know it sounds crazy) I e-mailed him. He didn’t have an e-mail address so I addressed it to “his name” @Heaven. I poured my heart into that e-mail. I said everything I wanted to say. I got it all out and then clicked “send”. And do you know … it went. It disappeared into the ether and I was hugely comforted. Eventually I got a message back saying “failed to deliver” but I still felt much better having said all the things I wanted to say.
And like you said, “His mom lived to be over 100 years old- so silly ass me, I actually thought my dad was going to be with us for just as long” – I thought the same. My paternal grandad was 98 1/2 years old when my father died at the age of 75 …. so I naturally assumed that he would live as long …
I was shocked at how painful it is to lose a parent – don’t get me wrong … I’ve counselled loads of people who have lost parents in my time, so I knew it was painful … but I never realised just HOW painful until it happened to me. It’s like your heart gets ripped out. That’s how I feel about losing Grandad too.
So, dear friend … know I understand … I really do …. and the other side of the coin is I also know just how much you loved your dad in order to be feeling this pain. And what’s more … he’ll know too …. because some things just don’t have to be said; they’re understood.
love Jan xx
The words in that poem did speak volumes to me to something that has been nagging my heart for an awful long time. I do remember reading that your dad passed and you didn’t know until after the funeral, and I’m so sorry for that. Funny how you and I both assumed they’d be there for a long, long, time and yes, it’s not like you can tell anyone else how it feels or they can truly know the effect of losing their mom or dad. You only have one mom and dad. Once they are gone, they are gone. Gone. It’s painful and frustrating, and there are so many waves of emotions and I’m so glad to know you are there and you get what I mean. Because it took me days to write this post and I still felt like it didn’t make sense. So, I’m grateful that you are there and you understood. Thank you Jan, I really appreciate it more than you know!!! xoxoxo Love Love Love!!!! Anne