Category Archives: Padre

Well, That Was Cool

So last Friday, Randy and I went to get the marriage license. From the courthouse and back again, we saw maybe 30 people. One of those people was one of Dad’s best friends, there for such a wacky reason that it could only be a sign (and P’s wacky personality) that brought him there at that exact moment.

Anyway…now that I’m at the emotional rollercoaster portion of this wedding planning business and missing the Pops more than ever, I thought that was pretty neat.

Advertisements
Tagged , ,

An Anniversary and a Hair Cut, Two Bits

I expected to wake up and feel differently this morning. I didn’t.  I still showered and went to work. I still was on the phone with a certain person for longer than necessary and had meetings with colleagues. I did cut out early at lunch, but ate a normal meal and exercised a bit. I even watched a couple of episodes of Glee. I got my hair done (read on for big reveal!) and am now drinking hot chocolate, writing blog posts and putting off school work until Randy meets me here for dinner. A regular Wednesday if there ever was one.

I happened to look at the clock at 11:45 a.m. and my heart about leapt out of my chest. A year ago at that moment, my dad’s machines took their last long beep and I about tackled the nurses and family members keeping me from fresh air. If I have my stories right, it was Nikki that held me as fell apart on that balcony, but the rest of that day is a blur.

But besides the moment this morning, the sadness of losing Dad is no different today than it was yesterday or will be tomorrow. Today is just another day with a big gaping hole in my life, and surprisingly, being the anniversary of Dad’s death isn’t as significant as I thought it would be.

If you would have told me 18 months ago that life would keep going on a normal pace without the Pop-ular Demand, I would have called you a liar. I may have been in my 20s, but I was a daddy’s girl through and through. I assumed if something happened to him, it would be the end of my life enthusiasm as well. I suppose that is another testament to his value. I (relatively quickly) learned to live without him because of all the things he taught me when he was alive. As I speak with people about this topic, they tell me that hole never leaves your heart. You can fill new parts with amazing people (I’m talking to you, Randy), but no one will replace this relationship. Sigh.

There are many other people who will leave holes in my heart if they leave this earth before me, but three have risen to the occasion today. You know who you are and OMG, you do not get to go first. We are going to live to be 800. We’ll be wizened up old men and women, but at least we’ll be without additional heartache.  Er… let’s revisit this at 75.

And with that, I would like to reveal the new hairstyle and dedicate it to one of my VIPs. This new look will definitely point to the left. It’s kind of hard to tell, but the color is a lighter. Many thanks to Dawn for slowly transitioning me back to where I belong….in a blond, blond world. Whatcha think?

Tagged , ,

A Million Times, I Miss You

First off, my apologies in advance. This may find itself as the beginning post in an ongoing series. We’re approaching some delicate days here in the next few months. I promise to throw some fun stuff in here, too. Anyway, thanks for listening!
On March 16, 2009 I told them that I didn’t want to do anything. I took a glass of orange juice and a new book out to the patio and got comfortable. Short of a few Diet Dr. Pepper breaks (and the subsequent bathroom visits) I didn’t leave that chair until dinnertime. He had asked me to come out to the woodshed and work on a project with him. I said I wanted to keep reading, but did go visit after awhile. He was working on a Morris chair. When I asked if I could get moved up the waiting list even though I wasn’t getting married anytime soon, he said as he had a million times, “of course, Margo. If that’s what you want, that’s what I’ll do.”

I’m not sure if we went for Chinese (please see previous statement) or had chicken on the grill that night, but I do know it ended as I finished the book and needed to give him the social security number test after I woke him up in his chair. He let Tom out, and then as he had a million times, he sat at the end of my bed and we talked for awhile. No matter how tired either one of us were, there was always enough energy to squeeze in pontifications in those last, precious minutes before I came back home.

The next morning mom woke me up. She made a hot chocolate for me and went to get pretty. I did the same. While he waited for me to get out of the bathroom, he practiced his mandolin. What do you want to hear, Margo? How about Crippled Creak, Padre? Perfect!

I don’t need a photograph to remind me he was wearing a green shirt and the pants with a lot of pockets and no shape. I had on a white t-shirt and jeans. Mom was in a pink and black sweater set and black pants. We had a little time to kill, so we stopped at Steve and Tiffany’s to say goodbye and to take a photograph. How did we not take any pictures?? That’s what we had done a million times before. Miss the good photo opportunities and document the anxiety and sadness of the immanent parting of ways.

On the way to the airport, we stopped at the Red Robin at La Cantera. He was so proud of himself because he ordered a burger with BBQ sauce and pineapple. We also had onion rings and raspberry lemonades. We sat outside since I was coming back to Milwaukee, but it was pretty cold. As we had a million times before, we pulled up to the San Antonio airport and I got out to get in line. But for the first time, I told them a Morris drop-off was fine. I didn’t need him to park the car and come inside so we could all cry.

Instead we cried at curbside. As he got my bag out, I gave mom a huge hug and a kiss and an “I love you.” Then I turned to him and did the same. And then we all did it again. As he got in the car, he said as he had a million times, “make me proud”. I yelled back, “I always do.” I watched them put on seatbelts, honk the horn and drive away. I took a couple deep breaths of San Antonio air, set my shoulders back, and made friends as I waited in the security line.

That was the last time I saw my dad alive and awake. I’d like to say if I would have realized the importance of these moments that would have paid more attention to the details of the day, but it sure looks like the minutia stuck with me anyway. I would pay a million times to have that day back again. To almost fall asleep and have him appear at the end of the bed to discuss the meaning of life tonight and a hamburger for lunch to look forward to tomorrow.

A friend is going to join me in a commemorative burger and onion rings tomorrow. The new most-important-man-in-my-life will be around in the evening to contemplate life like we have a million times over the past 6 months. All is not lost. But holy schmit, I sure miss you, Padre.

Tagged ,

I Have a Strict Policy That Nobody Cries Alone in My Presence

Confessions of a Pioneer Woman

I love that web site. I can see what its like to be real cowboys (and girls!), enjoy awesome food pictures, and read a romantic story that gives us all hope in true love. But its the posts like the one she just put up that make me really like Ree.

Haven’t we all been there? We find ourselves in the middle of a big group where everyone is laughing and talking and learning and eating and celebrating life when we really could be at home in bed with a bottle of cheap wine and a gallon of ice cream and no one would wonder why. I’ve got my girls who have lost babies, parents, grandparents, pets. I’ve got my girls with clinically crazy parents, in loveless relationships, or who are facing death themselves. I’ve got my girls who simply have reached a dead end yet spend every damn day throwing their whole body on that locked door to try to make it budge. We could all sit around and be mopey, but instead we spend time together and (hopefully) appreciate the joys we bring to each other. Man, I love my girlfriends.

Last week, my unofficial counselor gave me permission to be sad and take time with losing my dad, a best friend. All of a sudden it was as if a weight was lifted off my shoulders. No, I’m not going to quit living my life, but I don’t need to be 100% ok with everything and get on with it already. How could such an easy concept have slipped by me? I didn’t spend 29 years building a relationship just to be able to say, “ok..that’s done. Next!” I will find solace in the arms of those that do surround me, but every now and then retreat to my memories of pop and the support that gives me, too.

Have I told you that I’m a lucky girl? Cuz, you know what? I am!

Give Me A Buzz If You Getta Chance…

Back story 1: Mom had told me she was going to Sprint yesterday to turn in her phone and have it exchanged for dad’s.

Back story 2: I have both cell phone numbers and their home number listed as “ice Mom and Dad”

So I wake up at 6:30 and check my phone…There was a missed call from “ice Mom and Dad” at 5:33 with a voicemail. Oh no, I thought! Mom was having a bad night and I missed helping her. I listened to the voicemail, and since it was Sprint-to-Sprint, it gave me the name vs. the telephone number… I.E. First human voice I heard this morning said “Mark Skarich” in Mark Skarich’s recorded voice. There was a good 6 second message that sounded like someone was fumbling around with the phone, no words.

I figured two things: 1. if mom did have a bad morning, she may be back in bed, so I’ll wait ’til later to call her. 2. what probably happened was that she was just messing around with the phone learning how to use it and accidentally called me.

So I waited until 9:30 to call her.

Me: “Hey mom, did you call me this morning?”
Mom: “No, I finally slept great and didn’t wake up until you called dad’s cell at 8:30. Why did you call there?”
Me: “Wait, “dad’s cell”? You didn’t make it yours?”
Mom: “No, I got a model like his, but his was worn out. I brought his home to get the numbers out of it, but plan on throwing it away after that.”

So, moral of the story…dad called both me and mom this morning. Happy shivers…

He must have been out for an early morning delivery of Fastenal to the contractors in heaven.

Advertisements
%d bloggers like this: