A tribute to my dad

When I was younger my dad had a friend make me and my brother separate videos of us growing up using whatever photos he had on hand. Mine only went to the age of 7 or 8. I still have mine. I treasure it. There was also various kinds of music added to the videos, some quirky, some very very very old school and then this song- "Time In A Bottle" by Jim Croce. I can't get through the song without crying of course.

Today marks 7 years since he has passed on.

I still remember that day, somewhat.  Dave and I were in Indiana staying at dad's house holding down the fort.  It was a beautiful crisp fall day in Northwest Indiana. 

I remember I was in the house and the phone rang. I answered it.  It was the assisted living center that dad was in.  They asked for my brother (he was dad's point of contact and caregiver).

I handed the phone to Dave.  He was only on it a few moments before hanging up.

He said 'they said dad's blood pressure is low and we should get there as soon as we could'.

The assisted living center was about 40-45 minutes from dad's house.  We hopped in the car and off we went.  

Then we realized we needed to get gas or we would be pushing the car over to the place instead of driving it.

Somewhere during the drive (I don't remember looking at the clock, or if I did, I don't recall the time) I got a feeling that washed over me and I knew dad was already gone.  Call it a gut reaction, but I knew.  I didn't dare tell Dave as he was already a nervous wreck. I had to be strong for my brother.

We got to the assisted living facility and the first thing I noticed was dad's door was closed.  Usually all the doors were left open so the folks could socialize with one another and the nurses can keep a better eye on everyone.

I remember asking Dave 'why is dad's door closed?'  Like I didn't already know...

Then a nurse comes up and says 'I am sorry, Russell passed away at _____'.  (I don't remember the time).  

I remember throwing my purse against the wall and crying.  The nurse led me to the chair by dad's door.  After a minute, I got my bearings back and me, Dave and a nurse or 2 entered dad's room.  He was lying there with his mouth gaping open and his eyes closed.

A nurse came and hugged me, Dave I think began crying, then he left the room to go make phone calls and I was left standing there looking at the corpse of my father.

So I went and opened the bedroom window to get some fresh air and sat down at the desk and opened my journal to write.  What was I supposed to do, dad was gone.

Dave comes back in the room and we pay our final respects to our dad.  He comes over and hugs me (something he rarely ever does!) and said 'it's all over, the bullshit is finally over'.  We laughed as he called dad a 'stubborn old mule' (he was!) and then Dave wanted a minute or two alone with dad.

Well he did that, our cousin Suzie came over since she lived in the same town as the facility was located.  She paid her respects and said goodbye.

Then she suggested we go ahead and hit up a few stores to find funeral attire since neither of us brought any and then we would have dinner at her house.

The was the LAST thing Dave wanted to do, I know it was.  He wanted to go find the nearest bar and sulk, cry, etc.  I told Dave he didn't have to go with us.  I told him to give me his shirt / pant sizes and I would find him something.

I just went with the flow.

The 3 of us ended up going to Kohl's.  I found a black skirt, red top, and black jacket.  Dave gripped about how red wasn't a proper color to wear to a funeral.  I liked it, it was staying.  He found a gray/black striped shirt and a pair of black slacks.

We got to Suzie's house and had an awesome pot roast meal.   After I got done eating I asked if I could use their computer to e-mail everybody to let them know what happened and she said 'yes'.  

We left for dad's house shortly after.  Dave was weary from the day.  He went down to the Town Club (local tavern) as soon as we got back and I don't remember what I did.

And that's all I can recall of that day.

Here's to you daddy!  I love you & miss you dearly!