Some Healing Today

            It’s 9:03 p.m. It’s raining like crazy. My brother just asked about what time that epitaph thing is tomorrow, dealing with the tombstone. He’s referring to our appointment to choose dad’s headstone. Mom is to my right in a tilt-back chair and Lance is to my front and left on the couch. I’m in a tilt-back chair with my laptop. We're at mom's house. 

            Mom is telling Lance about what happened at Hartville Hardware. Mom and I went there and then afterwards the Hartville Kitchen. Mom is currently hugging her cat, Gizmo. Gizmo hates the storms.

            The Hartville Hardware is huge. They have a house inside the store. And, what is set up like a little village. We ended up in the basement of the Hardware store due to a tornado warning. The sirens were blaring so loudly that mom and I stuffed pieces of napkins mom had into our ears. Water was running in through a set of doors and a guy was moving the water out with a big squeegee.

            The trip home was hectic. There were tons of branches and trees lying in the road and I was watching mom’s GPS trying to help her reroute. We also drove through some deep water.

            Today we’ve been running around and getting on with our lives. Mom just started to tell my brother about our trip out to the mall earlier today. I wanted to go out to Best Buy and get a digital voice recorder to help me record dad’s memoirs. Last night I found myself getting up and needing to turn on a light and write things down. I think the voice recorder will be easier—a way to make notes and then get back to sleep more quickly with less hassle. I also bought a charger and rechargeable batteries.

            Since Best Buy was near the mall, mom and I went out to Chapel Hill Mall. Mom wanted to shop for shoes. She found a nice pair—black leather. She is talking about them right now. She says they are quite vogue. They had about an inch-and-a-half to two-inch heel. At the mall mom explained that helped in the winter to keep the bottom of her pants out of the snow.

            We also walked around the mall. It helped to get rid of that little sick feeling in the stomach. I think it helped burn off some nervous energy. Mom made a “find”. Mom likes to look for coins on the ground and also check vending machines for change. She found two quarters in the return of one vending machine. She mentioned she asked God to let her find some money if dad was in heaven. She said she knows you shouldn’t bargain with God. I said she was given a double-assurance (because of the two quarters). I also mentioned maybe one coin was for dad and one was for Uncle Ted. She talked a little bit about how her and dad loved looking for coins. It was a hobby of theirs. I did feel some relief when out at the mall with mom. It’s like a weight has lifted.

            We did talk about dad today, but it was on and off. For me, I could talk a little while and then I needed to quit talking or talk about something else. Dad was consistently on our minds today, but yet he wasn’t the focus of the day. I feel a little better today. I think being with others help. I suspect when the Bible talks about God’s indwelling Spirit, it may have more to do with God indwelling his people corporately than each person. I don’t think I can deny that he is with individuals, but I think his presence is so much stronger corporately. Anyhow, I’ll have to deal with those issues in another post. I did make some notes about things I’d like to write about in more detail about dad. I think I’m going to have to process things in waves. I can’t handle it all at once and I can’t consistently focus on it. Tomorrow may be hard as I’ll being going to mom for a doctor’s appointment. With all the stress she’s been through, her doctor wants to make sure she’s okay. Mom says I don’t need to go with her. Maybe if I’m having a rough time, I won’t. But, I’d like to. The doctor’s appointment may not be hard, but dad’s doctor, Dr. Nemer, really loved dad and according to mom was really shocked by his loss. So, there may be some reminiscing about dad. What may really be hard is dealing with dad’s headstone—although, maybe it won’t be that bad. The thing about grief is it’s unpredictable. Some things you handle much more easily than you thought. Other things unexpectantly hit your soul like a brick.

            At 1:00 p.m. we have an appointment at Newcomers Funeral Home to deal with dad’s headstone. I mentioned to mom whether she’ll want to decide what she wants on her stone as well. I’m not sure the exact discussion, but I think she just wants to deal with that tomorrow. Actually, I think they may have one stone, since their graves will be side by side. 

            Lance was over at mom’s house in the afternoon. He left a little after 4:00 p.m. Obviously, he came back over sometime while mom and I were in Hartville. I went over to the Kenmore Branch library to picture up some books after he moved his car, which was blocking me in. I wasn’t sure if the library closed early today—sometimes they close at 5:00 p.m. I received a message that material had come in. When there, I found I had some items sent to the Goodyear and also Firestone Park branches. I wanted everything sent out to Kenmore branch and the worker at the library put that in. It shows how scattered my brain is. Of course, I may have ordered the Firestone Park material some time ago. Sometimes I’ll put in a request for material and it takes a long time for it to arrive. I remember when I recently checked my library account that I stilled had the movie Birdman on order. There must be a long backlog of reserves for that movie. Funny thing is that I’ve already watched it. It happened to be there one day when I was at the Firestone branch. For some reason that wasn’t the one I had on reserve, but I could take it out and so I did. Apparently I hadn’t cancelled the one I had on reserve. Okay, I’m getting off track. Maybe that’s part of the grieving process. My brain has been spinning. And, I keep fighting this sinking feeling in my gut.

            Mom just said, “I love you boys.” Right now a commercial for Newcomers Funeral Home came on the TV. I hope they don’t run this commercial too often! I don’t want to be constantly reminded of the funeral home that handled dad’s services.

            Later we may watch “Too Cute”. Mom just brought it up about a minute ago. It will be something good to focus our mind on.

            Part of the reason I feel better is last evening and also today I’ve been able to get some genuine sleep. It’s been on and off, but I have been finding moments of peace.

            Mom and I talked that the three of us (my brother, Lance, me and mom) will grow closer through this. I do think I’ll get to the point where I’ve completely made it through the grieving process. I think I’ll be a better man. I noticed today that I just felt more kindness to people. Today I’m still taking pictures of everything. I took some pictures around mom and dad’s house. I took some pictures of dad’s tomato planters and his riding lawn mower. I even took some pictures of the stains dad left on his bedroom floor before mom cleans it up. She’s already cleaned up some of his messes. I don’t won’t to forget how much pain he suffered. It sounds weird, but I never want to think that dad was a weakling for wanting to die. I want to remember the struggle, so I can recall how tough he was. As I mentioned this to mom, she said dad’s toughness came from her. I would agree with that, but I told her that toughness also had to come from within. She agreed.

            We didn’t go into deep detail of anything with dad. Mom mentioned maybe we’ll need to make a trip down to Amish country. I remembered vaguely we went there with dad. Lance mentioned that he is aware of dad’s energy in the house. He is into ghost hunting. He said it isn’t always the person, but sometimes a person leaves an energy behind, particularly where that person spent a lot of time. I don’t know about that.

            Lance just asked mom for the pillow on dad’s bed. He said he might as well use it. He says he won’t get sad about dad’s pillow. “Dad would want us to”, Lance said, as he talked about using dad pillows.

            Mom is talking about how dad loved us so much. With everything Lance went through, mom said dad didn’t feel condemnation, but wanted Lance to be as he is today. Lance celebrated a year of sobriety this last Sunday.

            Today mom and I talked a little bit about New York City. We have both been there and we both find it fascinating. We talked about maybe going out there with Lance. We are starting to make new memories.

            Mom is now talking about throwing out some of dad’s clothes. Lance and I say it’s okay. I just don’t want anything thrown out if it was something that had special meaning. Today mom and I talked about a purple suit she made for dad. She put a lot of love into making that. Her love was in every stitch. This is something we want to keep, because she made it specifically for him. She said she thought about burying him in it, but we both agreed it wouldn’t have been good. The suit had a disco-vibe that was cool twenty or thirty years ago. Had we buried him in it, it would have looked like we just put the oldest thing in his closet on him.

            On the way back from Hartville Kitchen, mom noticed a restaurant she had never seen before. It was in the plaza across from the McDonalds on Arlington Road near I-77. Mom said it looked like the restaurant was closed. I said it may be a restaurant that hasn’t opened yet. She had this weird feeling. She said she’s missed the last nineteen month in that house (referring to her and dad’s home on Evergreen). She described it as a weird feeling. I said that it was like the world was changing around her while she was standing still. She agreed with that assessment. It’s weird, because I was noticing things like that restaurant and the newer lighting in the McDonalds. Things just keeping moving and changing, but mom (and also me to a certain extent) weren’t aware of changes—and then, all of a sudden you start noticing things. For me, it shows how short life is. That’s one of the difficult things about dealing with loss. You need to deal with your own mortality.

            Mom just mentioned the restaurant “Tommy’s” or “Tammy’s” (* as I’m editing, let me clarify this was the restaurant mentioned in the previous paragraph that mom originally thought had been closed). She asked Lance if it was a new thing. Lance didn’t know. Right now I’m writing while I’m with Lance and Mom. So, as they bring stuff up, I’m just incorporating it into this post.

            Right now Dirty Jobs is on the TV. Lance is playing on his phone. Mom is comforting Gizzy (her cat Gizmo) who hates storms. She said, “Gizzy, it’s okay.” Gizmo went out to the kitchen. Bootsie is lying on the floor. She looks pretty relaxed. I think I’m going to end this post and do some editing and proofreading. The internet is out, so I probably won’t get it published until tomorrow. I also think I’m going to have to spend less time editing and proofreading these post in order to expedite getting these thoughts down. So, if you’re a Grammar Nazi like me, you’ll have to forgive my little errors.

Random Thoughts

            Right Now I’m sitting in a tilt-back chair. Mom is to my right. In their (her and dad’s) living room are matching burgundy chairs. It’s really weird that I keep wanting to use present tense when talking about dad. The Grammar Nazi side of me wants to keep going back and changing that. Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe flipping verb tenses is fine in this situation. It shows where my mind is.

            I’m working on a poem to help share my thoughts and honor dad the day I buried him. My brain started working on that poem the day before his burial. However, I just didn’t have the time or energy to complete it. If I had, I would have probably had pastor share it at his service. But, I had to just choose something else I had written and save that writing for later. I worked quite a bit on the final words pastor would read and went back and forth between two pieces—one based on my blog post, ALL GOD’S LOVE, and another based on my blog post, The Fragility of Memory. I eventually felt the latter one was more personal. Mom liked both.

            Yesterday, after all the hustle and bustle of today, is the first I’ve really gotten some peaceful sleep. I may have to write a little and sleep on and off as I go through the process. I mentioned in a previous post my struggles with organized religion. It may be helpful in this post to somewhat summarize them. Dad’s death is both pushing me back to a faith that began in childhood and is forcing me to also evaluate it. I don’t think I’m losing my faith. I think I’m figuring through what it really means as well as what the Ekklesia means. Later I think I’ll have to expand these threads. Right now, in the middle of the post, I think I’m going to try and get some more sleep and continue later.

            Writing through this is a weird process. I’m thinking about dad, but yet I’m also focused on the writing process. It’s almost both a way to remember and a way to provide my mind a needed distraction. Anyhow, I said I was going to try and get some more sleep. So, nighty night post.

            It’s 9:01 a.m. now. I was able to get some deep sleep. I did change positions a few times (between the tilt-back chair and mom's couch) and also left a few notes to remind myself of things to work through with dad. I think I’m going to need to buy a voice recorder so when thoughts come in the night, I don’t have to turn on a light or my computer and write something down.

            I did have moments where I could hear dad, mom and my brother talking throughout the night—just floating images in my mind. Some of the words weren’t even words they were saying or would say. I think my mind was just putting words and sometimes my thoughts into their mouth. I can't really remember those words.

            Let me sharing some of the things I wrote down on a notepad I was keeping by my side. Mom gave it to me a few days ago as I asked if she had a notepad and she is also going to jot down notes we will talk about as I put together memoirs. These little notes are things I will be talking about in future posts:

Kissing dads forehead of his cadaver

The way he felt

wrinkly skin on his hands

Something on dad’s hands

Remembering dad’s sickness/health problems doesn’t diminish him. Shows his strength through how he connected strongly with others even when he wasn’t his best * < this is a post that will deserve some attention

If I can get the clothes dad was found in from the funeral home, I think I will to help jog memories

            On the note on dad’s sickness, I did put an asterisk and an arrow connecting the comment about that post deserving some attention. I have been thinking and will need to share some of the deep struggles dad faced. I don’t think he would have wanted me to share those with others while he was alive. It would have embarrassed him. But, I need to work through them. And, I think sharing these things will help others. In the long run, if dad knew sharing these hard memories could help others (particularly his sons), he would have reluctantly given permission to share and then as it brought healing he would have been so glad he did. Before going through and editing this post, I talked to mom briefly about this idea. She said that she had told dad that when he got better he was going to share his story and it would help others. Then I said something to the effect that dad is well now and his story will go on through me telling it.

            It is amazing how much dad impacted others even while he was sick. One of his nurses, Kim Dalton, just adored dad. He was also adored by Joe and Ben who helped him with hyperbaric treatment. He had two speech therapists, Sarah (at Pebble Creek) and Jessica (later when dad was home), who connected with dad—especially Jessica. According to mom, she took it pretty hard when she heard of dad’s loss. Mom said Jessica said she had learned so much from dad. Yes, she had learned from him! For me, knowing how much dad touched others, even the sick dad who wasn’t at his best, is testament to his heart. Even in his sickness, he brightened other people’s lives.

            I know my thoughts in these posts are somewhat disjointed at points and I may start ideas and not complete them. So, I think I’m going to end this post now. I need to go back and edit and proofread and then I’ll post. I’m going to have to grieve in waves and will share what I want when I want to deal with it.