I have wanted to post something this entire year, but each time I try to I just can't, it's too hard. But it needs to be done, so I am forcing myself to do this before I forget the details. I don't think the words I type out will even begin to describe the emotions felt that day and this whole year, nor will it do justice for the amazing miracles we saw.
That day. It's a word commonly used with my family, specifically between me and Mom. The day my sweet, tender, loving, gentle-giant Father passed away.
Throughout the years I have always been so fearful of my parents passing away. At times when those thoughts came up tears would be stream down my face, followed by a phone call to my Mom or Dad telling them, "neither of you can die before me just so you know. I wouldn't be able to handle it!", to which they would reply, "I've already made a deal with Heavenly Father that it's not going to happen." Death is inevitable - I knew that, and they knew that, but they always helped me feel at ease about it.
About a year or so ago the fears of them passing became a little more intense. Anytime I'd hear one of my Dad's Lettermen songs I'd burst into tears, and I'd be talking to myself in the car as if I was giving my Dad's Eulogy, (I know...weird) and talking about his amazing legacy and the amazing life he lead, to which again was followed by a phone call to Dad, to remind him of the deal he made. He'd always reassure me that it will be ok; that he's not planning to go anytime soon, and that all will be well.
Dad had a lot of health issues. It was all mostly due to his size. He loved food. Dad was Diabetic (type 2), had Neuropathy in his feet, Glaucoma - due to his Diabetes, and had this horrible face nerve issue, called Trigeminal Neuralgia. You'd be sitting there talking to him and all of a sudden the nerves in his face would flare up and hurt him. He'd hit his face so fast to try and get rid of it. It was horrible to watch. I always had to turn my head away because I couldn't watch him punch his face like that. It was so painful to him. The slightest muscle movement in his face would trigger it. When I'd try to hug him at times he'd make sure I was so careful not to touch his face. Poor guy.
Dad had insomnia. He'd sleep during the day and be up all night. Those were the times where a lot of his creativity happened. He'd write emails upon emails to his friends and family - that's how he liked to communicate. He'd send forwarded emails, church related emails, spiritual emails, funny emails, emails where we were blind copied on them, lol! So funny. A lot of the times we would bypass those emails, or just take a quick glance. I'd try to reply to them as often as possible. He'd thank me for responding saying, "you are the one who replies to my emails the most - I appreciate it".
These emails would be sent between once to several times a day, or more, especially if he was trying to plan one of our birthday parties. I think the record was 72 emails going back and forth all day. Mercy! Sometimes, alot of times, we'd get annoyed. I remember a conversation I had with my sister Erin a year or so ago. We were complaining about Dad's party planning email and how we wish he would just let us take over the planning so he wouldn't have to worry about it, etc. I said to her..."I know these emails can get annoying, but the day will come where we won't get any at all...and we'll miss them."
Who would have thought that the email he sent us that day would be the most important email we've received from him, and the last.
...to be continued.
