Remembering Dad: Thirty Years Ago Tonight

This was originally written on December 16, 2022.

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It was a snowy Wednesday evening when Dad took his last breath thirty years ago tonight. Though it was the most significant loss I had suffered in my first thirty-four years, my initial feeling was relief. We had pulled off Dad's wishes despite it being a harrowing six weeks since he suffered the stroke that really was the lung cancer metastasizing in his brain. He wanted to die at home, and he did.

It was my night to stay with him and my brother's night off. Our godfather, Loren, and godbrother, Tim, also rotated staying with us. There is no way that we could have pulled it off without them, and neither of them ever complained about the help he needed. After all, he was their loved one, also. 

When the visiting nurse arrived, she helped Mom clean him up and pose him for the family to view. I left for home to get Candace and Erin so they could gather with us. I don't recall if they wanted to see Gramps or not, but they surely wanted to play in the snow with their cousins. We all told stories and laughed. We shared memories and cried. We all knew that the end was coming, but we also had mixed emotions about it finally being over. 

It triggered a promise I made to Dad that I would conduct his services. He did not want them to become religious. He wanted his services to be short, sweet, and about him. He would have been pleased. 

After hearing the service, the bugler asked me if he could play the Marine Corps Hymn after Taps. I approved it without telling anyone and let him blast a stand-up song for Dad! Mom was both surprised and pleased that he did that, but the Marine Corps Reserve contingent that provided the military presence was even more impressed. They hung around a bit longer than normal to let Mom know how much they appreciated learning about their brother Marine.

If Dad was nothing else, he was a Marine. Semper fi! 

It was thirty years ago tonight that the vigil ended. I lost my confidant and mentor that night. It was a snowy Wednesday as we laughed and cried and then laughed some more. The grandchildren played in the snow outside by the window of the room his body was resting in. Our final duty for the evening was taking Dad's body out to the van when the funeral director came to take it. 

All I have now are many of his writings and some personal memories from long ago. I got his insatiable desire to study in order to understand things. He loved the words of Jesus, but he didn't have much use for religion. He once described himself as Christian agnostic. Our differences in views were more generational than anything else. He once told me that I argue like I'm an ACLU lawyer and expected me to take that as an insult!

It ended for Dad thirty years ago tonight. He has been missed often by many, and he still is!