I Miss You, Dad
Eighteen years ago today my dad died.
I'd just got home from work. He seemed like he was struggling. I got him some water, but when I got back, he was gone.
I woke up my mom, who was in another room.
She made the calls and my brother came over to say goodbye.
It was a hot day. I remember later on going out and watering the garden. I offered to drive mom to work, because I knew--just like I know I'm going to die someday--that she would get into a car accident. Don't ask me how I knew. I've had hunches before, and they've happened. Even my brother offered to drive my mom, who insisted on going about her day as if nothing happened. She took care of a boy, and didn't want to let his parents down. She refused.
I eventually went to bed and woke up to an empty house. The note on the dining room table said something along the lines of, "your brother and I went to the car dealership to see how much it costs to fix the car." It was totaled. My mother ended up with a cut on her wrist.
Later on, my mom, my brother and his wife and son and daughter, and I went out to Applebee's for dinner. I remember there was a thunderstorm. I imagined my dad arguing with God about something. It made me feel better.
Later that night, I was scared. Even though my dad couldn't have stopped an intruder, it was the first night that I realized he was gone forever. And I was scared. We knew his death was coming, but nothing ever prepares you for it.
And I think you'd be devastated at what remains of the family you and mom created. Your children are not speaking. It's nothing you did. But it's still sad. You and mom would be sad, I think.
I'd just got home from work. He seemed like he was struggling. I got him some water, but when I got back, he was gone.
I woke up my mom, who was in another room.
She made the calls and my brother came over to say goodbye.
It was a hot day. I remember later on going out and watering the garden. I offered to drive mom to work, because I knew--just like I know I'm going to die someday--that she would get into a car accident. Don't ask me how I knew. I've had hunches before, and they've happened. Even my brother offered to drive my mom, who insisted on going about her day as if nothing happened. She took care of a boy, and didn't want to let his parents down. She refused.
I eventually went to bed and woke up to an empty house. The note on the dining room table said something along the lines of, "your brother and I went to the car dealership to see how much it costs to fix the car." It was totaled. My mother ended up with a cut on her wrist.
Later on, my mom, my brother and his wife and son and daughter, and I went out to Applebee's for dinner. I remember there was a thunderstorm. I imagined my dad arguing with God about something. It made me feel better.
Later that night, I was scared. Even though my dad couldn't have stopped an intruder, it was the first night that I realized he was gone forever. And I was scared. We knew his death was coming, but nothing ever prepares you for it.
And I think you'd be devastated at what remains of the family you and mom created. Your children are not speaking. It's nothing you did. But it's still sad. You and mom would be sad, I think.
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