Death Day part two

Today is the 3rd anniversary of my dad's passing away (he missed Elvis Death Day by 2.5 hours). I cant believe its been 3 whole years. I havent talked much about my dad here except for that his cremains are in a jar on my piano. Long story short after my mom passed away in 2000 it was a roller coaster of ups and downs with his alcoholism and me trying to make him act right. Me beating my head against a brick wall is a pretty good description of that.

One day in June 2005 he got admitted to the hospital and got diagnosed with lung cancer, severe congestive heart failure, and emphysema all in one day. That was a very tough day. I dont have any siblings so managing his care was pretty much left up to me, though I cant discount the endless support I recieved from Big Daddy during that time. He did things for my dad that most people dont even do for their own parents, like cut his toenails, ew. Dad did well for about 1 1/2 years (about a year longer than anyone ever dreamed) and then he just gave up. He was lonely and no amount of love or care I gave him was going to change that. So on Aug 16, 2007 I told my dad that it was ok if he needed to go. I knew it would be soon because he had seen angels and deceased family members, had given me some instructions, not to mention his affairs were all tidied up in an accordion folder. But I had no idea it was going to be the next morning.

I was both shocked and relieved to recieve the phone call that he had gone. For anyone who has cared for an ill parent, it can be very very difficult to see them suffer. No matter how old you are, you still look to your parents for advice, love, care, etc. Changing that role to care for an aging parent can really mess that up. I learned a lot about myself, and about him, during the last 7 years of his life. He had just as difficult of a time accepting my help as I did giving it, frustrating us both. He wasnt a warm fuzzy person who was into hugging and kissing much but I did get to show my dad that I loved him many times during the last years of his life, and for that I am thankful. Had he died suddenly I might not have had that chance. So despite the fact that it was a great deal of suffering we both went through, it was for SOME good.

This week my best friend's son is going off to college. Zac is taking with him some of Dad's beloved Mark Twain books, and some of his furniture. I think that would have made Dad very happy that someone like Zac is enjoying his books enough to take them to college. There are things everywhere that remind me of my dad: his coffee cup in my cupboard, his keys in my bedside table drawer, his Navy jacket in my coat closet.

We miss you alot, Jack, and know that it will only be a minute in "heaven time" till we see you again.