Blaring opera music and ice cubes down the back – a few of
the tactics my dad used to get us up out of bed and off to school or mass. Twenty four years ago, the world lost a great
man. Not only was I lucky enough to have him in my life the first 18 years, but
to have him watching over us all since.
I remember the day with vivid clarity. Aunt Mary had just
gotten into town and was going to head up to the lake to meet up with my mom
and dad. She was staying at my parents’ house – so my brothers, sister, and I had
the family over for dinner. Uncle Bill, Aunt Ardy, Uncle Jim, Aunt Joanne, a
variety of cousins, and friends. I just started dating a new guy, so he was
there also (my parents hadn’t even met him yet). We were laughing and visiting
and having a good time. We made a big spaghetti dinner. The phone rang and I answered
it in the kitchen– it was hard to hear above all the noise. The caller asked
for my brother Dan. As we were cleaning up the dishes I overheard parts of the
conversation – I heard him say “ok – we will meet you at Crosby.” Dan hung up
the phone and I kidded him about who he was meeting in Crobsy (which was a park
nearby). He had a weird look on his face and said “not Crosby Park – Crosby Hospital,
Dad collapsed and they think from a heart
attack and it is bad.” We immediately called my other two brothers who were not
there and actually got a hold of them both (this was pre-cell phone days). After
a discussion of who should go – friends wanted to drive us – but we thought
best to just have the six siblings go. We headed up –picking up my brother
David on the way. We had one quick stop at a rest station and we were in Crosby
in record time. We walked into the ER and a friend of the family was standing
there, crying. I knew instantly I would never see my dad again. We found my in
shock mom and all broke down. Eventually, we made our way back to the cabin. We
sat around and cried, told stories, and even managed a few laughs. We each made
a few private calls – I called my very new boyfriend and all I could utter was “
he didn’t make it – please call Laura and tell her.” No one slept more than a few
minute at a time. Two of my parents friends showed up at 8 am with coffee and
donuts – aunts and uncles who had cabins nearby stopped by. We helped mom pack
her things and we piled into cars. My brother Stephen and I took the dog in
moms car. I smoked the whole way home. As we were nearing my mom’s house, we
passed my friend Laura and Sean - they
were heading in the opposite direction. The look exchanged between us all was
more than words could ever say.
The next few days were a constant wake. Mom stayed in the
same chair all week with literally hundreds of people stopping by the house. People
flew into town – my friend Jenifer immediately hopped on a plane. I tell you,
those are the things that mean the world to you. My dad had always said he did
not want a wake, so instead it was a in the home, four day long one! He also
did not want a funeral or public burial. It seems odd, looking back, that we
knew so much about want dad wanted. We moved en mass to the funeral home, the cemetery,
and the church figuring out plans. So, to honor his wishes, we had a “Celebration
of Life” Memorial Service followed by a huge party at moms. My parents friends
pretty much took over and organized the party. Aunt Mary (the nun and mom’s
twin) planned the mass. The morning of the mass, my mom’s friend Sheila was
helping my sister and I figure out what to wear. I recently had lost a lot of
weight and nothing fit. Finally, after much agonizing, we found a dress that worked.
We waited until the last second to leave. As we pulled up to the church – there
were cars everywhere. In fact, people were standing outside, trying to get in.
Our church held about 1500 people and it was packed with people standing in the
back. I have never seen anything like this.
I had agreed to do a reading – to this day I have no idea
why I did this. I held it together for as long as I could. My voice cracked,
tears flowed down my face, but I got though. I went back to the pew and was in
full blown hysteria. I learned that I am not a graceful crier. At communion, I really
lost it again. As I saw countless people walk by, I was so touched by those who
showed up – including most of my 52 classmates that I had graduated with only 2
months before.
Then we had the party at moms. Lots of alcohol was consumed
that day. Beer...hugs...beer...tears...yep, that about sums it up! I even saw my
very stoic grandma have a cigarette – which I had never seen her do before.
The next day, we had a private burial. It was immediate
family (which was about 50 people) and a few close friends. I wore a red polka dot dress that I borrowed from Laura.
Afterwards, I think we all collapsed. I needed to get ready
for college – I was leaving in a week. Oh boy!
No comments:
Post a Comment