Wednesday, June 13, 2012

THE DAY I’LL NEVER FORGET


It was 21 years ago yesterday: I was fast asleep when TLW (The Little Woman) woke me to tell me someone was at the front door. Going down stairs I see my brother-in-law John at the front door. Just then the phone rang and it was my sister Tessie saying: “Come quick, Daddy is gone!”

When I got to my parent’s house, I found Dad lying in the hallway where he fell dead, from a heart attack. He was suffering from lung cancer, after years of smoking. He wasn’t expected to live beyond the week and this was a Wednesday morning. I went in and embraced everyone and said goodbye to Dad and then they took his body away, the coroner, and that would be the last time I saw him in his home. I kissed his forehead and tears welled up in my eyes.

It is strange when someone passes in a private setting, there is a sense of relief that the body is taken away from view, yet you hold on to everything else. I was told they held the body for me to arrive before moving Dad to the funeral parlor in the Hurst that was suddenly parked in the front of the house.

Dealing with the shock, even though you expected it to happen, leaves you comparing what you thought it would be like and the unexpected event that did occur. The time and place does not fit your scenario. You go back to what you thought it would be like because you can better relate to yourself than you can with the reality. And after 21 years, you start to mix up the way it happened with what you figured would happen.

I remember that next day after the burial was Father’s Day, the most hollow and empty day of my life. It seemed to mock the whole family, Dad was not here, where is he, and doesn’t he realize it is Father’s Day! It seemed to me like someone had taken a chunk of the day, and carved it out, leaving: me nothingness between where my Mom sat and the family member who sat next to her.

So 21 years later, it still is a bad day.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Grandpa was such a great guy. I remember when I was around ten years old, he used to encourage me to "write stories" about the Mets and Jets and other sporting events. His encouragement -- along with your support and encouragement -- is one of the big reasons I am a writer today. When he was dying, I used to drive over to the house after school and sit with him. I'm so glad I had the opportunity to do that. It's hard to believe it's been 21 years. It's very sad, but I'm very happy to have his name.

-#1 Son

Jim Pantaleno said...

No matter the circumstances, we can never be prepared for the death of a parent. We can honor them by living lives they would be proud of, and I'm sure your Dad would be pleased at how you have upheld the family name.

Anonymous said...

I loved him so much and miss him everyday. He was a very special grandfather.