A serene and sunny, quiet afternoon at the beginning of spring break. All the possibilities were ahead of us, but when the phone rang and my sister was hysterical on the other end a possibility, not even considered, was handed to us. My dad had passed away.
Of all the chaos I have written about on this blog nothing compares to the disarray and confusion felt when a loved one has a very unexpected death. The carefully laid out schedules are thrown aside, the peace and calm are mocked with running and scrambling and the once contended feeling is instantaneously replaced with disbelief and misery. Everything changes in a moment.
After my husband sped home I raced up to Michigan. The 5 hour drive took a little less time than usual and the minutes toddled by compared to the speed of my thoughts. I finally reached the door and that is when reality truly hit. This wasn’t some strange joke, a dream or misunderstanding. This was real. Dad was gone and we were all wearing the shock on our faces and in our tears.
The planning occurred, the arrangements were made, the pictures and slide shows were put in order and services began. So many people came out to give dad a personal farewell, sent flowers, sent cards or made food to show their support for our family. I am sure dad enjoyed seeing all those people from his life all gathered together. Interwoven in the fibers of sympathy and grief were vibrant strands of laughter and greetings of old friends. Stories of my dad’s past rebounded off the walls of the otherwise morbid room of the funeral home and added color and style. The boards we put together in the early morning hours showed his love for his kids, wife and granddaughters mixed in a collage of his other loves of music, television and movies.
We had a portion of the service that was for anyone to get up and speak. Funny memories, stories, and things they had learned from dad or anything they wanted to say. It was like sharing a layered cake of painful, funny and consoling that was sweet when it was all taken in. His adult years, his family life, his childhood and his career rolled into each other through different speakers. This is what I said…
I wasn’t sure what to write today in this memory share time and so I thought the best thing to do would be to write him a letter.
Dear Dad,
Well, look at the crossroads we find ourselves at now. It was nearly 30 years ago that you stepped into my life. You were this funny, goofy guy that liked to play and wrestle around with me and you had this weird brown apartment we would visit. I don’t remember anything about it except that it was so brown. That is back when you still had brown hair too. For four long years you and my mom were together, but not married yet and then one day it happened. I was still hatching when I stepped out of my bedroom at the cottage and you both told me you were getting married. As an eight year old, the prospect of being a flower girl was awesome! At the wedding in Vegas ( of course) I gave a speech as only an eight year old can and told you I was glad I now had a dad again.
From then on you stepped in at those pivotal moments for me and were my dad. You were there for gymnastics competitions, recitals, proms, graduations, my wedding and the birth of your grandchildren. You were there to teach me “the Kadjan” dance and how to let loose with all those parties in the basement at the house in Royal Oak. You also taught me how some things are not worth holding onto and we just need to let them go. There were times that you showed me understanding and acceptance when others struggled and times when your hugs held on tight without wanting to let go.
Your smile, your unique sense of humor, your hugs and the many, MANY random collections of things. I will always think of you when I see a McDonald’s toy or Aladdin or Toy Story merchandise.
You had a gift of making me feel special at random times when I would least expect it. A week and a half ago I shared an accomplishment with mom, who passed it on to you. In all the chaos life delves out, there wasn’t really room for too many things said about it, but I received an email from you the next day. I saved it because it was one of those moments that you shined as a dad because you told me how proud you were of me and made me feel more special than anyone else had. You made me feel that I could tackle anything. You said I had a gift and those are words that resonate. That was the last I ever heard from you and I thank you for that.
You will be missed down here in so many obvious ways, but in so many more that we do not even understand or recognize yet.
I love you and Thank You for coming into my life to be my dad.
The day passed, the mass and funeral luncheon passed, the burial passed and now, only a week after his passing, we are left to pick up and fit together a jigsaw puzzle of a life left abruptly. The affairs that go into someone passing are more numerous than anyone anticipates and no one is ever ready to deal with.
My father died when I was one, but I have always felt him with me. Now I have another father who has passed on, but I was able to know him in this visible world for much longer. We are not here to understand life. It is not for us to understand. All we can do is live it and share it the best way we know how by using the fruits of life we were given. Lead, Teach, Serve, Have Understanding, Heal, Have Mercy, Give and Spread Truth.
There is no going back to normal because normal will be different now. My mom, my brother, my sister, myself and my family here will have to take those unfamiliar and uncomfortable steps forward and find our way. It will be hard most times and he will be missed, but we will be comforted with our memories and the hope of seeing him in our future.
** A HUGE thank you to all of those that sent cards, flowers, prayers and thoughts. It was amazing to come home from all of this and have a pile of things to go through that people took the time to send. It meant so much.
