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Mar. 19th, 2006 05:34 pmI knew something was not right when my doorbell rang this morning and it was my mom. She was supposed to still be at the farm.
Yesterday, my dad worked in his yard, went cruising around in his shiny red Mazda, puttered around Harbor Freight for an hour looking at tools, went out to eat Mexican food as he did every Saturday night, went over to a friend's house and played poker and had fun, and came home and went to bed around 10:30 as he always does.
Around 3 in the morning he had a heart attack. By 4, he was gone.
I've spent the day with my stepmom and family. We're all pretty much okay, as much as we can be, anyway. Stepmom dropped me back home a few minutes ago and insisted that because there's really nothing else to be done about anything today, I relax this evening and watch funny things on TV and hug my kitties. Tomorrow we go to have our hair dealt with by trained professionals so that we will look civilized, and then we go to the funeral home to do the hard things.
Sometime after the hard things are over, Stepmom wants to fire up Dad's '56 Nomad and take it out for a ride for him. I agreed that this was a good idea.
One good thing comes of this: Dad is an organ donor. Skin, eyes, bone marrow, and dura matter. And the leg. He was in a motorcycle accident like a week before I was born, and lost his left leg below the knee, so for as long as I've been around he's had a prosthetic leg. When Stepmom got her ankle tattoo and showed it to me, Dad gave me that "I'm about to yank your chain really hard" grin he had and said "I got one too!" Yup--he'd slapped a sticker on the leg. Anyway, his leg is practically brand new, and he still had the previous one around, so we're donating those too. So he's going to help a lot of people, and in a way he'll still be out there, and all of us like that idea a whole lot.
So right now, I'm okay. Tomorrow might be a different story, but right now, we're okay.
Love you guys.
Yesterday, my dad worked in his yard, went cruising around in his shiny red Mazda, puttered around Harbor Freight for an hour looking at tools, went out to eat Mexican food as he did every Saturday night, went over to a friend's house and played poker and had fun, and came home and went to bed around 10:30 as he always does.
Around 3 in the morning he had a heart attack. By 4, he was gone.
I've spent the day with my stepmom and family. We're all pretty much okay, as much as we can be, anyway. Stepmom dropped me back home a few minutes ago and insisted that because there's really nothing else to be done about anything today, I relax this evening and watch funny things on TV and hug my kitties. Tomorrow we go to have our hair dealt with by trained professionals so that we will look civilized, and then we go to the funeral home to do the hard things.
Sometime after the hard things are over, Stepmom wants to fire up Dad's '56 Nomad and take it out for a ride for him. I agreed that this was a good idea.
One good thing comes of this: Dad is an organ donor. Skin, eyes, bone marrow, and dura matter. And the leg. He was in a motorcycle accident like a week before I was born, and lost his left leg below the knee, so for as long as I've been around he's had a prosthetic leg. When Stepmom got her ankle tattoo and showed it to me, Dad gave me that "I'm about to yank your chain really hard" grin he had and said "I got one too!" Yup--he'd slapped a sticker on the leg. Anyway, his leg is practically brand new, and he still had the previous one around, so we're donating those too. So he's going to help a lot of people, and in a way he'll still be out there, and all of us like that idea a whole lot.
So right now, I'm okay. Tomorrow might be a different story, but right now, we're okay.
Love you guys.
