Twenty years ago today my Dad passed away.It doesn't seem that long ago but then again it does.I've talked about our relationship here before.
How we started out as almost strangers
and then after my mom passed, him falling into the role of a very strict disciplinarian.
I've written how he got rid of almost everything, including all of my pets,
and how I hated him... but also loved him.
Over the years many things changed between us.
There was a period of time after I moved out on my own where I caused him a lot of grief.
The quiet obedient child finally rebelling and doing the opposite of everything he wanted.
But time went on until we finally both matured and by some miracle became best friends.
The man who I could never talk to somehow became someone that I could casually drop by his house with my dog
and sit on the patio and chat and laugh.
I would call him about the silliest of things, like a funny story about how my dog was chasing lightning bugs
and what a sight it was to see.
Or I talk to him about boyfriend problems and he would give me his opinions
although I never followed his advice.
We still had our moments, times when he would comment about dishes in my sink
or some other household chore that wasn't done to his satisfaction and I would get upset
but not as upset as his complete lack of emotional support of anything I did artistically.
In fact, the night before it happened I called him to let him know that I had entered a piece of my Art work in an Art exhibition.
I was excited because it had been chosen to be in one of the downtown business windows.
I wanted desperately for him to go down and see it and the ribbon that hung from it and
I started to give him instructions to the building's location but he had interrupted and told me not to bother.
He said that he doubted that he would make it down there.
I bit my tongue although my feelings were very hurt.
I wanted to say so many things but I figured why?
I knew it would just created an argument and not solve anything.
I knew I couldn't change his feelings towards Art.
So, I just finished up the conversation and then went to meet a friend to go see a movie.
We went and saw "Forrest Gump".
On the drive home, after talking about the movie, we started talking about our fathers.
Both of our Dads were far from being young and both were semi-retired and liked to come to our homes to tinker around.
She laughed how her Dad would buy things for her house without her approval, things that she herself would not have chosen
and I shook my head and said that my Dad would send me out to buy whatever he needed
or if he did pick up something, he'd had me the receipt for reimbursement.
We talked about how while they could be frustrating as hell, we both would be totally lost without them.
I remember saying to her that if something happened to my Dad, that they would have come get me and take me straight to the Mental Hospital
because I just would not be able to handle it.
We were quiet for a few minutes as she drove, thinking about it and then she started to sing.
My friend can NOT sing but she thinks she can.
I covered my ears and pleaded for her to stop and she just turned up the radio louder.
Finally we were at her house and I got out and pretended to run to my car as we were both laughing.
Then I drove home and tried not to think about our prior conversation.
The next day I was working at my retail job.
Usually I would leave right on the dot at noon for my lunch break but I was running late helping a client.
I finished up about a quarter after to find my area manager standing at our work station waiting for me.
She looked so serious as she said that they needed me up in the office, that the store manager had to talk to me.
"OK!" I brightly answered. I knew I wasn't in trouble. I always exceeded my sales goal but then her face made me hesitate.
"What's wrong?" I asked and she flushed and looked down and just said "You need to go up there Cindi".
I could see tears in her eyes so I went right away, taking the stairs rather than the elevator.
I got to the office and some of the customer service girls looked stricken, but some just had their heads down avoiding me.
So I walked behind the counter and looked at the Office Manager and mouthed the words to her
"Am I being fired?" she just looked at me and then the one of the store managers opened the door of their office and said to come in.
I stepped inside and she closed the door. The other manager was there too.
He said "You have a phone call, you can take it here at my desk" and then they both left the room.
I picked up the phone and it was my Dad's next door neighbor.
She was saying something about my step-mom coming home from work for lunch and..."
Then the neighbor was crying.
"Did something happen to her?" I asked. I guess my mind would just not let me even think it might be Dad.
"No, Cindi, you just need to come to your Dad's house" she sobbed.
I refused. I told her that I wasn't coming until I knew why and then she said it.
"He's gone Cindi, your Dad is gone. Your step-mom came home and found him down in his den..."
I don't know now what else she was saying. I started trembling and I was crying silently.
One of the managers opened the door and put her hand on my back, I was shaking so hard that she said she would drive me.
So....
we pulled up to my fathers home, firetrucks, an ambulance, cop cars lined his quiet street.
I walked inside and my step-mom rushed to me.
She was hysterical.
The coroner was there and as we sat down on the sofa, I recognized a friend of an old boyfriend of mine, a funeral director.
He leaned forward towards me, his face looked like I was seeing at it in a doorknob.
So close and distorted.
He was saying something to me but I have no clue what.
I was crying so hard.
At some point I realized that my Dad was still in house.
They said that since they had been told that he didn't want a service and wanted to be cremated that they weren't sure if I would be able to see him later, so did I want to see him now? before they took his body?
Ok, maybe this is too much detail but I did want to see him.
I remembered walking towards the stairs and unknown voices calling out that the daughter was coming down.
So I walked downstairs, through the rooms and past firemen, policemen, I guess that's who they were.
To me they just strange men in a nightmare.
And then there he was.
He had a heart attack in his den.
By the bathroom he had gotten a bit sick and someone was saying they could see that he had taken his heart pills, that he must have realized something was happening but....
Yeah.
So after an eternity or maybe it was just a few minutes, I called my sister.
She lived in Ohio at the time.
I had her go get her husband and sit down and I told her.
She wouldn't believe me at first, that's what she kept saying but I knew that she knew it was true.
I told her what I knew as we both sobbed.
I don't remember the whole conversation really, everything was becoming so surreal and dream-like.
I went back into the living room and sat some more with my stepmom.
She had called her friend and her parents and her sister.
So I just sat and finally later in the afternoon I called my friend.
I just said her name and she started crying, and I told her that I had to tell her something
and she just kept yelling "no, no , NO! I don't want to hear you."
But I told her and she was sobbing and I asked her to call my other friends for me and let them know what had happened.
So yeah, twenty years ago today.
Twenty years ago today, a lifetime ago
but then again not.
A few nights later, my friend went to the Art Exhibition Party for me and walked up when they called my name.
She held my piece of work as it was auctioned off.
She said a well-known artist commented on it and said it was very cool.
I had made a mask as everyone had for the exhibit.
The funds were to go for a Halloween event they were having later that year
so I created something with that in mind.
It was a mermaids head with her eyes closed and her mouth open.
It was a greenish grey color, hopefully so that it would look like it had been under the sea for a very long time.
It was creepy and spooky.
Anyway, my friend came to my home later and told me about the evening and said it was very exciting.
I just nodded.
She walked around my house, looking at the plants and baskets people had sent
and then she asked if she could opened the big basket they had sent me from work.
It was filled with junk food.
I said sure and poured some alcohol as she opened up some Oreo's.
Back then I really didn't eat stuff like that but as we sat on the sofa watching TV, both drinking and her eating, I told her to give me some of those cookies.
Yep, I still crave those damn things whenever I 'm really down.
In fact, twenty years later, I think I could use some Oreo's just about now.
