Feb 21...

Warning: somewhat emotionally dramatic post ahead... I usually blog kinda sunshine and daisies (haha), soooo I felt the need for a warning....

Today is Presidents Day. And it's the 21st.

February 21, 1994, aka Presidents Day that year, is the day my father passed away. I was 12, going on 13. The 21st is kinda blah...and Presidents Day is kinda blah...but when they fall together again, it's....well...yeah...blah.

It's been many years now...and it's weird to think that he's been gone more years in my life now than he was alive during them.... I can't really wrap my head around that one. Bizarre.

We left the hospital late Sunday night before Presidents Day. He'd been in there awhile...at least a month at that point. And had been in and out regularly for over a year. I'd made friends with some of the nurses. I did my homework in his hospital room and made friends with his neighbors, a nice elderly couple.

Anyway, I didn't go to the hospital when they called that morning at 7am. My mom got the call and said she had to go. She asked if I wanted to come and looked at me in a way that I knew he was gone. She quickly added "If you don't want to come, it's okay... I can come back and get you here in a bit. I'm not sure what's going on at the hospital..." I acted like I didn't know, but I did. I said I'd stay home. I knew my mom didn't want me to see him like that. She was very adamant about my last memory of him being a good one, not...well.. not like that...and I knew it. Plus, I didn't want to see him like that. Anyway, she left....and I got in the shower. I stayed in the shower for a long, long time. I dunno about you, but I have issues crying in the shower. Something about the water hitting your face that seems all not conducive to crying...haha.. So, yeah, I showered.

The rest of the week is kinda a blur... I remember having people over and accidentally dropping the deli meat tray on the floor. Not wanting to upset anyone, I picked it all up and hurriedly put it back on the tray and served it... *cringe* Oops. haha...If anyone out there got food poisoning from my dad's reception, sorry about that... ;) I remember my mom being really strong and not crying in front of me. Ever. I heard her crying at night a couple times, but never saw her... That's my mom. I remember standing in the line at the church and having a bunch of old women tell me I seemed so "well adjusted." To this day, that phrase makes me annoyed. I know they were just being nice, but still...what does that even mean?

Anyway, it's been many years and I think of him often. But, when I think of him now, I rarely get overcome with any sort of sadness. I usually think of a fun memory or tidbit like how we used to dance while I stood on his feet....or how he taught me how to take photos (he was a professional photag), or how he'd ALWAYS go outside with his camera in the middle of a lightening storm, scaring my mother to pieces...haha... Anyway, things like that make me smile; they don't make me sad anymore. I think of the three of us reading the Sunday comics in my parents bed every Sunday morning before church...well four of us if you count our beagle....and how my dad always tried not to use expletives around me when he got mad at the dog for eating random things-shoes, trash, etc.. haha...

He was born with a congenital heart defect that went undiagnosed for a long time. Once they found it, it was apparent it was a terminal condition. My mom knew about it when she married him.... which is something I admire about her, even if I spent years confused about it. When I was helping my mom move into her current house, I found a little box of letters... handwritten love notes. Nothing gross (I mean, c'mon it's still my parents.. ew...haha), but just sweet little things she'd kept that they'd once written each other in class (in college), etc. In retrospect, I think my dad was kinda romantic like that. He told her he was going to marry her on their first date. She told him he was crazy and not to call her again... Anyway, looks like he won that one. ;) They met in journalism class in college. She said he walked into class late EVERY day and when called out on it once by the professor, he proceeded to take a bow in front of the class.  haha... Awesome.

He planned his own funeral....which none of us knew til after he passed. He had it all planned on a notepad, including contact numbers, etc. He obviously didn't want mom to have to do it alone. The one thing that I still find amusing is that he wanted his old high school girlfriend to sing at the funeral.. My parents were friends of hers and her husband's, so it was totally fine...but my mom still rolls her eyes about that one...haha.. Men... *sigh* It definitely provided some needed comic relief to the whole thing...

So, it's the 21st. And I remember why the 21st makes me uncomfortable. But I also love that it brings such great memories about my dad flooding in b/c he was a great person and a great dad. No need for tears... :)

Non dramatic weekend recap coming soon... Sorry for being a little emotion-heavy in this one, friends...