January 19, 2013.
After work I drove to a member's house in North Minneapolis to have them sign a line on the title that they'd missed. It was very near to the cemetery, so I stopped by and happened to have my notebook on me. Here are the notes:
The earth that covers your grave is cracked and the flowers - two weeks in the winter's cold - are weary of their vigil and hang their chilly heads. I take the eucalyptus from the bedraggled bouquets knowing it will infuse my car with an exotic smell that will sooth as it needles my memories.
I don't stay long. Just long enough to be filled anew with the grief of losing you. I try to reconcile my right to feel this way against the memories of what we were not.
I know that we never really got much closer than arms length, and I know, too, that you wanted more. But I had no more to give you and I am reconciled to that in your death as I was in your life.
And yet, the child within me cries out "DADDY!" into the wind. The bare trees wave and the crows fly high, and no one hears. Not even you now...perhaps the only one who would have wanted to hear.
Monday, January 28, 2013
I went to pick up the kids from Tommy's house in Richfield. It was too icy to drive there yesterday - especially with my very bald tires. (It's on my list.)
I was surprised by the quantity of snow that was on the ground there. Apparently they had 3-5 inches yesterday. Whereas we, here in Faribault, got nada. We got a lot of rain, ice, sleet, and slush. No snow. So the roads were a virtual skating rink. The kids missed school today, but the frustration comes from Greyson's NOT calling or emailing his teachers, and he missed his appointment with the advisors where they were all going to meet with his ethics teacher! He "forgot" to contact them. I even reminded him, but no.
So anyway, I'm frustrated with that. You can lead a horse to water and all that. These are the times, which are frequent and nagging, that I would LOVE to have him live with his father or his grandparents and let them try their hand. It ain't easy!
Anyway, so tomorrow I have to bring him to school early and carry him to his advisors office to make him make a new appointment. I'll do that right after I give him his bottle and burp him. (At least I'm not bitter.)
The boys were at Carolyn's all weekend and didn't mention that their grandfather had died three weeks ago. So weird. So I talked to Carolyn and told her. She's so sweet and offered to do anything she could to help. Nothing really she CAN do, but it was nice of her to offer.
I also ran into my dad's neighbor's at McDonalds. I was running in to return my Redbox movies at the McD's in Richfield and there they were. I talked to Maria for a while. She was telling me that her dad died eleven years ago. He was on his first day of work riding on the back of the garbage truck - you know, where they used to ride to get the cans? And he fell off. She said he fell asleep and never woke up. I'm not sure exactly what she meant. I assume she meant a coma. Anyway, they brought his body back to Mexico, but because of all the paperwork, her dad was in the funeral home for a month before they could ship him. He was forty eight years old. So basically, she wins. Next to that, I got nothin. She said to let her know when we'd be at Dad's house and she would make us some food. (Mexican...yum.) Such a sweetheart. I can see why Dad liked them so much. It was funny, because when they first moved in, he was so bigoted about it. Upset that the Mexican family was moving in next door. But then soon he was fixing their bikes, and dragging the kids over to do stuff. They've been there for fourteen years. So by now, the kids, who are 14, 12 and 5, are part of Dad's extended family. They were so crushed when he died. Maria reminded me of how Dad used to always snowplow EVERYONE's driveway after a snowstorm. And of course, he would make us shovel everyone's walks. LOL I'd forgotten that.
I talked a few weeks ago to Dad's former neighbor, Lucy, and she said, and I quote, "Your dad was such a good neighbor to Chuck Knoss and I." And then later, "Chuck Knoss thought a lot of him." Um...how many people do you know who refer to their late husband by his first and last name? When she said it, my immediate reaction was to tell Dad. LOL He would have gotten a kick out of that and probably would have been able to explain it as well. We ALL called him Chuck Knoss. Like it was one word. But his WIFE??? Weird.
I have to call the high school tomorrow, too, to let them know that it's all my fault that Gabe didn't make it back for school today. They don't open until 8, and I'm already hard at work by then. Today at lunch we did Meals on Wheels. I can't BELIEVE how frickin' hot they keep those assisted living apartments. I think that's why they are so expensive - the heating bill. When I lived with my Gramma, she also kept the house at tropical temperatures. And it didn't matter if you were two rooms away from her, she could sense when you were near the thermostat, "GET AWAY FROM THERE!" she'd scream at you. And you would be standing there in front of the dial, fingers poised to make the very necessary adjustment, thinking, "HOW THE HELL DOES SHE KNOW I'M HERE!?!??!" Makes no sense. She had the senses of a dog. Like how do they know when someone will be home in fifteen minutes? How did the dogs know that Marv would be coming around the corner three minutes before he actually did? God only knows. Gramma probably would have.
Something in my room REEEKED of pee, and I couldn't figure it out. Well, today I did. It was a towel in the bathroom. I was on the pot, and the cat was sniffing it in a particular way, so I grabbed it and YES that little hairy bastard had peed on it. It was dry but stinky. so I threw him out of the room. Now it's just me, Tigger and the two dogs. There's barely room on the bed for me!
I was surprised by the quantity of snow that was on the ground there. Apparently they had 3-5 inches yesterday. Whereas we, here in Faribault, got nada. We got a lot of rain, ice, sleet, and slush. No snow. So the roads were a virtual skating rink. The kids missed school today, but the frustration comes from Greyson's NOT calling or emailing his teachers, and he missed his appointment with the advisors where they were all going to meet with his ethics teacher! He "forgot" to contact them. I even reminded him, but no.
So anyway, I'm frustrated with that. You can lead a horse to water and all that. These are the times, which are frequent and nagging, that I would LOVE to have him live with his father or his grandparents and let them try their hand. It ain't easy!
Anyway, so tomorrow I have to bring him to school early and carry him to his advisors office to make him make a new appointment. I'll do that right after I give him his bottle and burp him. (At least I'm not bitter.)
The boys were at Carolyn's all weekend and didn't mention that their grandfather had died three weeks ago. So weird. So I talked to Carolyn and told her. She's so sweet and offered to do anything she could to help. Nothing really she CAN do, but it was nice of her to offer.
I also ran into my dad's neighbor's at McDonalds. I was running in to return my Redbox movies at the McD's in Richfield and there they were. I talked to Maria for a while. She was telling me that her dad died eleven years ago. He was on his first day of work riding on the back of the garbage truck - you know, where they used to ride to get the cans? And he fell off. She said he fell asleep and never woke up. I'm not sure exactly what she meant. I assume she meant a coma. Anyway, they brought his body back to Mexico, but because of all the paperwork, her dad was in the funeral home for a month before they could ship him. He was forty eight years old. So basically, she wins. Next to that, I got nothin. She said to let her know when we'd be at Dad's house and she would make us some food. (Mexican...yum.) Such a sweetheart. I can see why Dad liked them so much. It was funny, because when they first moved in, he was so bigoted about it. Upset that the Mexican family was moving in next door. But then soon he was fixing their bikes, and dragging the kids over to do stuff. They've been there for fourteen years. So by now, the kids, who are 14, 12 and 5, are part of Dad's extended family. They were so crushed when he died. Maria reminded me of how Dad used to always snowplow EVERYONE's driveway after a snowstorm. And of course, he would make us shovel everyone's walks. LOL I'd forgotten that.
I talked a few weeks ago to Dad's former neighbor, Lucy, and she said, and I quote, "Your dad was such a good neighbor to Chuck Knoss and I." And then later, "Chuck Knoss thought a lot of him." Um...how many people do you know who refer to their late husband by his first and last name? When she said it, my immediate reaction was to tell Dad. LOL He would have gotten a kick out of that and probably would have been able to explain it as well. We ALL called him Chuck Knoss. Like it was one word. But his WIFE??? Weird.
I have to call the high school tomorrow, too, to let them know that it's all my fault that Gabe didn't make it back for school today. They don't open until 8, and I'm already hard at work by then. Today at lunch we did Meals on Wheels. I can't BELIEVE how frickin' hot they keep those assisted living apartments. I think that's why they are so expensive - the heating bill. When I lived with my Gramma, she also kept the house at tropical temperatures. And it didn't matter if you were two rooms away from her, she could sense when you were near the thermostat, "GET AWAY FROM THERE!" she'd scream at you. And you would be standing there in front of the dial, fingers poised to make the very necessary adjustment, thinking, "HOW THE HELL DOES SHE KNOW I'M HERE!?!??!" Makes no sense. She had the senses of a dog. Like how do they know when someone will be home in fifteen minutes? How did the dogs know that Marv would be coming around the corner three minutes before he actually did? God only knows. Gramma probably would have.
Something in my room REEEKED of pee, and I couldn't figure it out. Well, today I did. It was a towel in the bathroom. I was on the pot, and the cat was sniffing it in a particular way, so I grabbed it and YES that little hairy bastard had peed on it. It was dry but stinky. so I threw him out of the room. Now it's just me, Tigger and the two dogs. There's barely room on the bed for me!
Friday, January 25, 2013
eulogy:
There is no way for me to sum up my relationship with Dad, and I can’t even imagine trying… I think most of his family and friends feel the same way. We all knew who he was and yet he was someone a little different with each of us. He was so completely engaged with whoever he was talking to, you always felt that intensity. Whether he was telling you what you SHOULD be doing for a career, or explaining the ins and outs of something that you were pretty sure he’d never actually done, he was all yours for that time. There was no one else in the room when he zoomed in on a conversation with you.
But he also had his “Classic” sayings and behaviors: “YEAH BOY!” “AH! GOD!” “Come on, you know you want to…” that he would say to everyone, but you knew that THAT time, he meant it just for you.
Monday night, Doug, Jack, Jodi and my son Gabe were sitting around talking and I said that I thought Dad used humor as a way to keep a little bit of a safe distance from his emotions. He knew that a joke could deflect something that looked like it was going to get too emotional. And in a way I think, his final instructions for his funeral were his way of trying to save us all once again. Just like when your pipes burst at 2am in January or your car broke down on the side of the road…this was another emergency that he knew how to fix.
Cuz all a guy needs to do to ease the devastating pain of losing Dad is to laugh. And all you need is a couple of guys who know what they’re doing…and here we all are. Dad left us the tools and the knowledge of how to use them.
Unfortunately this is not a completely fool-proof plan. I know that we will be feeling his absence forever. I was always so relieved that he could fix the pipes, or get the car going – or at least bring his car dolly and get you out of there. And I guess in a way he’s doing it again. “We gotta get a handle on this,” I can hear him saying, “And then we can deal with the rest of it later.” Laughter, sharing stories, leaning on each other…that’s how we’ll get a handle on it. We’ll have the rest of our lives to deal with it.
In the meantime, this feels like an okay way to let him go. This feels about right, Dad. So Thanks. Thanks for being there one last time.
Graveside sonnet:
He is not here and will not feel the chill
Nor hear the silence of the falling snow
He will not hear the crows that scream and scold
But knows the truths that only death can know
He basks at last in God’s eternal glow
And finds the answers sought throughout his days
In peace he rises as we lay him low
To feel no more the pain of earthly ways
Surrounded by his family’s loving gaze
Everything he thought forever lost
Reunions full of love and holy praise
Taking place while we stand here in the frost
Celestial arms hold him while we wait
To meet again at Heaven’s holy gate
Today's sonnet:
The icy hand of Sorrow grasps at me
I dodge and feint but cannot break from her
She marks me with her angry filigree
And etches deep your living moniker
No smudge can make the burning lines a blur
No reason takes your name from off my heart
My every caution makes her grip more sure
And soon my frail resistance falls apart
Your voice, your laugh forever in the dark
Where silence mocks the echo of my pain
The searing ache that comes from Death’s sure mark
The howling of the wind that blows in vain
Keep back! I scream, to keep my thoughts at bay
But Death, you know, will always find a way.
There is no way for me to sum up my relationship with Dad, and I can’t even imagine trying… I think most of his family and friends feel the same way. We all knew who he was and yet he was someone a little different with each of us. He was so completely engaged with whoever he was talking to, you always felt that intensity. Whether he was telling you what you SHOULD be doing for a career, or explaining the ins and outs of something that you were pretty sure he’d never actually done, he was all yours for that time. There was no one else in the room when he zoomed in on a conversation with you.
But he also had his “Classic” sayings and behaviors: “YEAH BOY!” “AH! GOD!” “Come on, you know you want to…” that he would say to everyone, but you knew that THAT time, he meant it just for you.
Monday night, Doug, Jack, Jodi and my son Gabe were sitting around talking and I said that I thought Dad used humor as a way to keep a little bit of a safe distance from his emotions. He knew that a joke could deflect something that looked like it was going to get too emotional. And in a way I think, his final instructions for his funeral were his way of trying to save us all once again. Just like when your pipes burst at 2am in January or your car broke down on the side of the road…this was another emergency that he knew how to fix.
Cuz all a guy needs to do to ease the devastating pain of losing Dad is to laugh. And all you need is a couple of guys who know what they’re doing…and here we all are. Dad left us the tools and the knowledge of how to use them.
Unfortunately this is not a completely fool-proof plan. I know that we will be feeling his absence forever. I was always so relieved that he could fix the pipes, or get the car going – or at least bring his car dolly and get you out of there. And I guess in a way he’s doing it again. “We gotta get a handle on this,” I can hear him saying, “And then we can deal with the rest of it later.” Laughter, sharing stories, leaning on each other…that’s how we’ll get a handle on it. We’ll have the rest of our lives to deal with it.
In the meantime, this feels like an okay way to let him go. This feels about right, Dad. So Thanks. Thanks for being there one last time.
Graveside sonnet:
He is not here and will not feel the chill
Nor hear the silence of the falling snow
He will not hear the crows that scream and scold
But knows the truths that only death can know
He basks at last in God’s eternal glow
And finds the answers sought throughout his days
In peace he rises as we lay him low
To feel no more the pain of earthly ways
Surrounded by his family’s loving gaze
Everything he thought forever lost
Reunions full of love and holy praise
Taking place while we stand here in the frost
Celestial arms hold him while we wait
To meet again at Heaven’s holy gate
Today's sonnet:
The icy hand of Sorrow grasps at me
I dodge and feint but cannot break from her
She marks me with her angry filigree
And etches deep your living moniker
No smudge can make the burning lines a blur
No reason takes your name from off my heart
My every caution makes her grip more sure
And soon my frail resistance falls apart
Your voice, your laugh forever in the dark
Where silence mocks the echo of my pain
The searing ache that comes from Death’s sure mark
The howling of the wind that blows in vain
Keep back! I scream, to keep my thoughts at bay
But Death, you know, will always find a way.
My head feels like a pile of poop. But I talked to a co-worker who lost her dad early December, and she said she's just starting to feel a little clarity now. She said she didn't know if it was because she's just starting to really deal with the loss. we had this conversation because I told her how I was feeling just kind of foggy and lost today. That's not even really a good description. I felt - disconnected. Like my body was HERE, but my brain was somewhere else. An out of body experience where you still have to answer the phone.
Anyway, my mood is rubbing off on poor Marv, who was, I think, in a relatively good mood when we met for lunch, but while I tried to convey a perkier attitude than I was feeling, I could feel his buoyancy fading. And I feel guilty. I don't mean to bring anyone down, and I swear I'm trying to be "up," but I fear that I've never been much of a liar, and it shows on my face anyway. I'm trying so hard not to think about it that it ends up being all I can think about.
So after work, we went to Grand Plaza and had a sampler platter, then he wanted to walk home. It's frickin' freezing, so I guess that's how bad he wanted to get away from me. But I drove him home anyway and went to get gas in the car. My gas gauge isn't working properly. One more thing to worry about, but at least it's still under warranty. so I came home with the intention of putting in a movie and finishing up some clay stuff that I started eighty seven years ago. (Did I mention that my kiln should be back up to par now???) But I was freezing cold and decided that I would just warm up the electric blanket and stick my toes under there. then I thought, Well, I meant to write anyway, so why not do that? now I think I'll do my yoga. I have to do that anyway, and it will warm me up and give me some energy. I was too full before, so maybe now I'll do that.
Criminy, what's my word count? Maybe I should force myself to write a certain number of words. Or force myself to be meaningful. Or at least make sense. Nah. That's too much pressure. So it's 8:45pm now, and I'll do my yoga and then who knows. Maybe I'll do some pottery before I totally poop out.
Okay, it's an hour later and I did the yoga. My carpet stinks like animal pee. Dog or cat, who can tell? It's DisGUSTING. God, I wish I could rip up the carpet and start over. But perhaps I'll go rent a carpet cleaner again. or maybe just sew the animals' pee holes shut. GOD!
Anyway, my mood is rubbing off on poor Marv, who was, I think, in a relatively good mood when we met for lunch, but while I tried to convey a perkier attitude than I was feeling, I could feel his buoyancy fading. And I feel guilty. I don't mean to bring anyone down, and I swear I'm trying to be "up," but I fear that I've never been much of a liar, and it shows on my face anyway. I'm trying so hard not to think about it that it ends up being all I can think about.
So after work, we went to Grand Plaza and had a sampler platter, then he wanted to walk home. It's frickin' freezing, so I guess that's how bad he wanted to get away from me. But I drove him home anyway and went to get gas in the car. My gas gauge isn't working properly. One more thing to worry about, but at least it's still under warranty. so I came home with the intention of putting in a movie and finishing up some clay stuff that I started eighty seven years ago. (Did I mention that my kiln should be back up to par now???) But I was freezing cold and decided that I would just warm up the electric blanket and stick my toes under there. then I thought, Well, I meant to write anyway, so why not do that? now I think I'll do my yoga. I have to do that anyway, and it will warm me up and give me some energy. I was too full before, so maybe now I'll do that.
Criminy, what's my word count? Maybe I should force myself to write a certain number of words. Or force myself to be meaningful. Or at least make sense. Nah. That's too much pressure. So it's 8:45pm now, and I'll do my yoga and then who knows. Maybe I'll do some pottery before I totally poop out.
Okay, it's an hour later and I did the yoga. My carpet stinks like animal pee. Dog or cat, who can tell? It's DisGUSTING. God, I wish I could rip up the carpet and start over. But perhaps I'll go rent a carpet cleaner again. or maybe just sew the animals' pee holes shut. GOD!
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Two posts in one day. That's some kind of a record or something!
Darrell came over today and fixed my kiln. Though it's funny because the button that you push in for the kiln to run would NOT stay in when I tried it, but the Marv came over and I pushed it to show him that it wouldn't stay in and...you guessed it...it stayed in. I'll have to let Darrell know.
Anyway, I read a bit of Les Miserables, and then watched The Office (season 2), and took a little nap.
Then I got up and made some spinach artichoke dip (which, if truth be told, is really a multi cheese dip with spinach and artichoke added for texture and to rationalize putting all that cheese in one place.)
Then I went to the grocery store for dog food, bread, chips (to convey the dip to our waiting mouths), and some diet cherry 7-Up and diet cranberry Mist. I had been thinking to myself that those two beverages seem to be about the same thing, so I laughed a little when I pulled them out of the fridge later and Marv commented, "Aren't those pretty much the same thing?"
I heated up the seafood linguini from Sunday and the chicken wings from Tuesday and served with the fresh dip and chips.
We did our version of Chopped: commenting on the presentation, taste and creativity. I noted that I wasn't really sure that I did a good job of marrying the components, as the chicken wings didn't seem to tie in with the other foods. Although the linguini and the dip were good together and the wings and the dip were good together. But I gave one of my wings to the dog and wondered aloud if the Chopped judges did the same thing with things that they don't like. After dinner we watched Babe (the pig.) I haven't seen that since my brain surgery forced me to watch the same two movies over and over and over in 1996. Babe and I think it was the Little Princess. Can't remember. Anyway, I watched it about 9 times back then, and haven't seen it since. Marv loved it. Then we went to McDonalds for a French Vanilla Latte (what did I do with that...must be downstairs. Damn. I'm all warm under my electric blanket.) and then brought Marv home and now I'm in bed. It's 11:00 pm, so I'd better just get my FVL and do my Sudoku and hit the hay.
Darrell came over today and fixed my kiln. Though it's funny because the button that you push in for the kiln to run would NOT stay in when I tried it, but the Marv came over and I pushed it to show him that it wouldn't stay in and...you guessed it...it stayed in. I'll have to let Darrell know.
Anyway, I read a bit of Les Miserables, and then watched The Office (season 2), and took a little nap.
Then I got up and made some spinach artichoke dip (which, if truth be told, is really a multi cheese dip with spinach and artichoke added for texture and to rationalize putting all that cheese in one place.)
Then I went to the grocery store for dog food, bread, chips (to convey the dip to our waiting mouths), and some diet cherry 7-Up and diet cranberry Mist. I had been thinking to myself that those two beverages seem to be about the same thing, so I laughed a little when I pulled them out of the fridge later and Marv commented, "Aren't those pretty much the same thing?"
I heated up the seafood linguini from Sunday and the chicken wings from Tuesday and served with the fresh dip and chips.
We did our version of Chopped: commenting on the presentation, taste and creativity. I noted that I wasn't really sure that I did a good job of marrying the components, as the chicken wings didn't seem to tie in with the other foods. Although the linguini and the dip were good together and the wings and the dip were good together. But I gave one of my wings to the dog and wondered aloud if the Chopped judges did the same thing with things that they don't like. After dinner we watched Babe (the pig.) I haven't seen that since my brain surgery forced me to watch the same two movies over and over and over in 1996. Babe and I think it was the Little Princess. Can't remember. Anyway, I watched it about 9 times back then, and haven't seen it since. Marv loved it. Then we went to McDonalds for a French Vanilla Latte (what did I do with that...must be downstairs. Damn. I'm all warm under my electric blanket.) and then brought Marv home and now I'm in bed. It's 11:00 pm, so I'd better just get my FVL and do my Sudoku and hit the hay.
Today is january 24. Exactly three weeks since my dad died. My new years resolution was to write every day, and I did that for the first two days of January. Then I continued, but wrote an obituary, a eulogy, and a graveside sonnet. Not what I had in mind. Since then, I've been writing sporadically. I'm on paper, in my notebooks and on a little tablet I keep in my pocket or on my computer - which is less reliable as it seems to decide to delete my words, which just frustrates me and makes me want to write LESS.
Anyway, I just did The Firm's yoga workout. I barely broke a sweat but it feels like enough for today. I'm tired of my back and hip hurting and feel that perhaps this will help. It's been at least five years since I seriously did any working out, and I think it's time to start again. So I'm going to try to do this easy work out every day for a week, and then maybe amp it up a little by adding the extra touches that are not "for the beginners, you'll stay here" as Kirsten keeps advising. I can feel the stretch and pull in my back, which feels good. The pain is a bummer.
I have to call Jeff back and tell him that yes, I did injure myself playing racquetball, but I have no one to blame but myself since I just can't seem to rein in my competitive spirit even in the face of a young guy in his early twenties who clearly can spank me at any sport he should choose. But I feel like I could get him in Scrabble. Though I don't think I'll have the chance.
Anyway, Marv is waiting for me at the Depot, so I'm going to have a cup of soup. Then I think I'll head to the library. I kind of feel like going for a walk, but it's zero degrees outside and that is giving me pause.
Anyway, I just did The Firm's yoga workout. I barely broke a sweat but it feels like enough for today. I'm tired of my back and hip hurting and feel that perhaps this will help. It's been at least five years since I seriously did any working out, and I think it's time to start again. So I'm going to try to do this easy work out every day for a week, and then maybe amp it up a little by adding the extra touches that are not "for the beginners, you'll stay here" as Kirsten keeps advising. I can feel the stretch and pull in my back, which feels good. The pain is a bummer.
I have to call Jeff back and tell him that yes, I did injure myself playing racquetball, but I have no one to blame but myself since I just can't seem to rein in my competitive spirit even in the face of a young guy in his early twenties who clearly can spank me at any sport he should choose. But I feel like I could get him in Scrabble. Though I don't think I'll have the chance.
Anyway, Marv is waiting for me at the Depot, so I'm going to have a cup of soup. Then I think I'll head to the library. I kind of feel like going for a walk, but it's zero degrees outside and that is giving me pause.
Well, I have internet at home now, so I'm inclined to take this up again, though at the moment I'm at Barnes and Noble in Burnsville flipping between reading a biography of Paul Newman (75% off, so it was only a couple of bucks!) and this slow internet connection.
In just a few days I, along with my sisters, will be in Washington, D.C. Our first "Sister's Vaca." I'm excited to go, but nervous. I'm always nervous. Always anxious. I often feel it's my defining quality, though I think only Marv knows how bad it is. We often joke about my habit of fretting all night instead of sleeping. The other day, we were talking about my dissertation for my PhD in Fretology. My professor's name was Frederick Fretterer. I did a comparative study including four groups: Fretters with nothing to fret about, fretters with things to fret about, non-fretters with things to fret about, and my control group: Non fretters with nothing to fret about. Is it any wonder that my household now includes a ferret? I think it's not a coincidence.
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