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Sometimes I have to remind myself that my father is dead. It's not denial, more like disbelief. It's just so surreal and weird.
I suppose a sudden and unexpected (and totally preventable) fatal illness is a lot like an accidental death. There's just no preparation, no warning signs, no tidying up affairs. Everything is just a big mess, much like his apartment and business. Empty safe deposit box. Missing will. Lack of organized documentation. Garages full of stuff. Attic full of stuff. Basement full of stuff. Workplace full of stuff. Apartment full of stuff.
I just keep occasionally thinking about how I should call him, how I need to get a Father's Day card, how I should try to get some Sox tickets. And then I need to remind myself that I don't need to do those things anymore. What I /do/ need to do is continue writing these blasted thank you cards for funeral gifts, continue planning trips to RI for cleaning and such, continue being gracious when people offer sympathy.
My director picked flowers from her own garden and arranged them in a vase on my desk yesterday. She was on vacation the last two weeks, and was just bowled over when she heard. She's quite sweet and I enjoy her very much. She also thinks I am one of the most hysterical people ever. (That's good for my ego.) And says I can never, ever leave my job. She's paranoid that we're moving to Rhode Island.
It feels so weird to be digging through my dad's drawers and cabinets, because privacy was always terribly important to him. I don't know how many times I got pissed in college because I had late bills and notices that I didn't know about because he refused (out of privacy) to open my mail. It feels so weird to bag up all his clothes, drawers after drawers of t-shirts that he bought to commemorate occasions and never wore. I took back the Dead Milkmen t-shirt that I got autographed for him in 1992. And an old school Mickey Mouse t-shirt. And his Montreal Canadiens jersey. And a Red Sox World Series t-shirt he hadn't even had for a year.
Heck, when he said he could die happy at any time now that the Sox won the Series last year, I guess he wasn't frigging kidding.
I suppose a sudden and unexpected (and totally preventable) fatal illness is a lot like an accidental death. There's just no preparation, no warning signs, no tidying up affairs. Everything is just a big mess, much like his apartment and business. Empty safe deposit box. Missing will. Lack of organized documentation. Garages full of stuff. Attic full of stuff. Basement full of stuff. Workplace full of stuff. Apartment full of stuff.
I just keep occasionally thinking about how I should call him, how I need to get a Father's Day card, how I should try to get some Sox tickets. And then I need to remind myself that I don't need to do those things anymore. What I /do/ need to do is continue writing these blasted thank you cards for funeral gifts, continue planning trips to RI for cleaning and such, continue being gracious when people offer sympathy.
My director picked flowers from her own garden and arranged them in a vase on my desk yesterday. She was on vacation the last two weeks, and was just bowled over when she heard. She's quite sweet and I enjoy her very much. She also thinks I am one of the most hysterical people ever. (That's good for my ego.) And says I can never, ever leave my job. She's paranoid that we're moving to Rhode Island.
It feels so weird to be digging through my dad's drawers and cabinets, because privacy was always terribly important to him. I don't know how many times I got pissed in college because I had late bills and notices that I didn't know about because he refused (out of privacy) to open my mail. It feels so weird to bag up all his clothes, drawers after drawers of t-shirts that he bought to commemorate occasions and never wore. I took back the Dead Milkmen t-shirt that I got autographed for him in 1992. And an old school Mickey Mouse t-shirt. And his Montreal Canadiens jersey. And a Red Sox World Series t-shirt he hadn't even had for a year.
Heck, when he said he could die happy at any time now that the Sox won the Series last year, I guess he wasn't frigging kidding.
no subject
Date: 2005-06-17 12:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-17 01:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-17 12:55 am (UTC)It's nice that you have things that have meaning to you as well as your dad... I just have a box of stuff that doesn't mean anything to me; except that they were his.
Wishing you strength to deal with everything.
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Date: 2005-06-17 01:44 am (UTC)The one thing I really want to preserve is my dad's baseball memorabilia (cards and autographs), since we collected them together. I'd also like to end up with a couple of family heirlooms. Other than that, I think I'll let it go. I don't want to end up with stuff in a bin in the basement.
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Date: 2005-06-17 01:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-17 01:40 am (UTC)There are people that make quilts out of old t-shirts. If you found like 12 or so that meant something to your dad, you could have them quilted up and snuggle with it when you're feeling sad.
I don't know. It just popped into my head. I think there are people on e-bay that'll do it for you.
I'm thinking about you.
no subject
Date: 2005-06-17 01:42 am (UTC)But thanks for thinking of me!
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Date: 2005-06-17 01:47 am (UTC)But yeah, I kinda knew it wasn't your bag when I wrote it. :-)
Quilts
Date: 2005-06-17 01:29 pm (UTC)Here's the pictures of what she did, if you're curious:
http://littleblueworld.net/quilt_project.htm
Re: Quilts
Date: 2005-06-20 01:01 am (UTC)But she did a good job!
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Date: 2005-06-17 03:48 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2005-06-17 04:15 am (UTC)I know.
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Date: 2005-06-20 01:02 am (UTC)Hope you're hanging in there today.
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Date: 2005-06-17 04:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-17 01:08 pm (UTC)I had NO idea .... and I am so sorry for your loss. I really feel like life has passed me by in the time I have been away. If there is anything I can do please do not hesitate to ask...
Blessings, Hugs and Love to you
no subject
Date: 2005-06-20 01:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-17 01:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-18 09:42 pm (UTC)I know Kathryn already got in touch with you, but I wanted to send something your way. I apologize for the delay (I haven't been able to get online since we left Raleigh) but Kathryn informed me of your news almost as soon as she got your message. I know that I can't say anything that someone else hasn't already said to you, but please know that you are in my thoughts and prayers. I know you've got a wonderful support system, but please know that you've also got two more down here in NC.
With love,
Rachel
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Date: 2005-06-20 01:03 am (UTC)(You can always drop everything, move to RI and be our tenants!)
no subject
Date: 2005-06-24 05:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-25 04:00 am (UTC)It's all just so sudden and shocking. But I still think that there's not a lot of use being sad about something that happened, because being sad doesn't change anything and only makes things harder. I'm sure there will be times where I will be sad about this or that, but in the long run, I'm not going to sweat something I can't change.
Just enjoy your loved ones every moment you can.