What I'll miss the most....

So yeah, I'm still pretty down this week.

I think the main reason is that I have lost the person who was the most excited about my existence.

Never once did I call him when I wasn't met with a cheerful voice who was actually happy to hear from me. Never once did I greet him in person when he didn't give me a big hug.

95% of the time when I call people, I'm met with a voice of indifference. Like they wouldn't tell the difference between talking to me and staring at a white wall. The love is there somewhere, I just have to look harder for it.

When I talked to my dad, I never had to do anything to impress him. I didn't have to be smart or funny or interesting. I just had to *be*. I never got the impression that he was looking at his watch on the other end of the phone, or looking for some excuse to let me go.

So the feeling that I have lost my biggest fan has left me feeling quite alone. Which is far from the truth, but still.

April Fools!

First of all I'm sure the title of my blog post would be Dead Dad Approved.

And so would the first sentence of this post.

My father - 66 years old - passed away from heart disease on April 1. He lost consciousness at his house in the morning, went to hospital in ambulance, and was admitted to the ICU. They had him on a temporary pacemaker and a lot of meds to keep his heart going and were planning on inserting a permanent pacemaker Thursday or Friday. I got down to OKC around 5:30p.m. and got to visit with him for 90 minutes or so. He was conscious and coherent and cracking jokes with my brother and me. They kicked us out for shift change from 7 to 8. We came back at 8. I don't remember the conversations, other than my dad saying something about how much it meant for us to be there, and my dad said that I'm now a parent so that I would understand that too. I told him a story about what Emerson

would be doing at that moment, which is running around happily screaming when she was supposed to be getting tired and going to bed. Then Dad said he was tired. We told him we'd be back in the morning and gave eachother hugs and squeezes. We left his room around 8:10.

My brother Jayson received a call right before 10 that Dad was in a code blue. I was at his apartment, so I drove us back to the hospital. At the entrance to the ICU, we could see the entrance to my dad's room where there was a big pile of dirty linens. I knew what had happened when one of the nurses said "There's the family". They took us to a "Consultation Room" which is a euphemism for "Death News Room". I watch ER so I know the drill about prefacing the news with the treatments that they tried followed by we did all we could followed by a use of dad's name in conjunction with a past tense verb.

We decided to go in and see his remains. I talked to his body. I told him I really wasn't sure what he wanted us to do from here but that we would do our best. Then we told a few good stories of funny things he had said or done. One of the last things I said to him was "So....THAT happened" - from State and Main, one of his favorite movie quotes. In the movie it was used when Alec Baldwin stumbles away from the fiery car crash that he caused.

My bro and I dealt with a few things Thursday. Namely setting up memorial service arrangements.

At 4p.m. I decided to shift gears. You see, I had planned on being in OKC around that time anyway. My stepson had been scheduled for a surgery that my husband describes in great detail here.

I wanted to be sure that I was sending nothing but good vibes Thomas's way. My dad loves both of Rod's sons as if they were his blood grandchildren. He knew that we were confident but the normal amount of nervous about Thomas's surgery. So Dad didn't even call me on Wednesday because he didn't want to distract us from being there for Thomas (my brother called me anyway). So I decided to put my grief on hold for a day or so, at which I was mostly successful.

Thomas's surgery went great. There is a long road of recovery ahead, but everything has gone just as it should.

I love my family so much. Emerson is a great distraction - her smile, coupled with the "normal" act of changing her diapers has been a great source of strength. My husband and I exchange hugs that say nothing but "I know you're hurting. I hurt too. I'm hurting for my own reasons and also hurting because you're hurting." My brother is a source of comic relief and did a lot of stuff today while I was at the hospital.

I think I originally wanted to post some favorite memories of my dad. I'm getting tired so I'll only post 2.

I'm so happy that my dad got to walk me down the aisle at my wedding and see me get 5 good years (and counting) with a guy who makes me laugh and "gets" me.

I'm so happy he got to meet Emerson. He was there shortly after the birth, and he got to see her the last time in February. He didn't get to see her walk but he got to see her awesome smile.

So Thomas is in an ICU bed tonight in very good hands and on very good pain meds. I got to see him briefly tonight but they only let 2 at a time back there, slots which must be shared among his mom, dad, stepdad, older brother and me. We're all relieved to have the surgery itself behind us. All of this is going to be a slow process. Thomas will be in the hospital for several more days and (hopefully anyway) in a rehab facility for a few more weeks after that. As Thomas's condition improves and as more of the busy-work of dealing with a death gets done, I know the hole in my heart will start to get bigger. But I have many many happy memories with which to fill it.