Losing It

I went to Target to get a few things... Baby food, a rain coat for each of the kids, spring/summer jammies for them, and a condelence card. While I was in the card section, it hit me that I needed to get a card for my mom's wedding on Saturday.

I walked to the aisle that had the wedding cards in them and just started sobbing. Mom's getting married on Saturday. In three days, she won't have the same last name she's had since 1968. My dad's name.

Dad died after suffering through illnesses and invalidity on July 3, 2010, a few days after Nathaniel's first birthday. He's buried in a cemetary not too far from where mom works. And although in my head I know he's not there, I fear that he's alone. That he always will be alone. And that my mom will forget about him.

It's not that I'm not happy for my mom. I am. (Or try to be.) She deserves to be happy. I promised her that when Dad died, if she found someone else I would be happy for her. But I never expected that to actually happen, so it was an easy promise.

The man she is marrying makes her happy. She makes him happy. Everyone is so happy it makes me want to vomit. I put on my smile and try to be as welcoming as possible, but I find that I am having a harder time than I ever expected to.

There's nothing wrong with him, but little comments that he makes drive me crazy. Like "I get to become a father and grandfather all in one day." No, my dad is dead and my kids aren't your grandkids. Ever.

Pat and I talked about how this was making me feel, about how I feel like my dad will be alone forever. He said he felt the same way about his dad. I don't care about his dad. My dad bought 6 plots in the cemetary, to fill up with his wife and kids, I assume. His dad bought 4 plots so that he could have a monument erected. I know two people that can be buried there- his uncle and the cousin who will probably never marry. So one spot will go unused. Pat and I plan to be buried together, and he knows better than to plant me by his dad. That brings us around again to my dad being all alone.

I would never tell my mom the way I feel because I don't want to hurt her. But inside I am hurting so much.

I Guess I'm Human After All

Who knew? Apparently, I am not the cold, heartless bitch that I thought. (or that others thought, I'm not really sure.) I say this because tomorrow is Pat's Dad's wake.

And I am sad.

I had to buy the paper this morning, to get his obituary so that I could take my three days bereavement and get paid for it, instead of using sick days. I opened up the Sun Times and started to read it.

And I cried.

I am not sad that a major stressor is gone from my life. I am not sad that Pat can now come home at the end of his long workday. But I am sad that Nathaniel will not remember either of his grandfathers. I am sad that he will not grow up hearing thier stories. I am sad that Pat is so hurt (although he really tries to hide it.)

But, I am also sad that I just couldn't have let it all go before he died. Honestly, I think about it and wonder how much of the bullshit was real and how much was imaginary? But, wouldn't he have been happy that there is a person in this world that would defend his son and grandson at any expense?

No matter how negative a thing he said about my son or my husband (his own son) I would have fought him tooth and nail. What parent wouldn't want a person like that in their child's life?

When Pat and I first became aware that we were going to be parents ourselves, we had several long talks about how we would be different from our parents. I remember him swearing to me that he would never treat Nathaniel the way that his dad treated him (regarding the negativity and manipulation). The fact that he could even acknowledge that there was something disfunctional about his relationship with his dad speaks volumes. So not all of it was in my imagination.

In discussing my feelings with my sounding board and BFF, we talked about how Pat's dad loved kids. I had heard stories about how he adored Pat's sister (same mom, different dad) when she was young. He loved Johnny's little girl while she was around. He even would play with and buy Christmas presents for my nephew Larry. Then there was Nathaniel. I think he thought the sun rose and set on that kid's behind. (Doesn't it? I am pretty sure that's true.) SO masybe he just loved kids until they got to a certain age.

If that's so, then maybe it's a good thing that he died before Nathaniel hit that age of the stand off. I am honestly doing my best to make sure that Nathaniel will always love his grandpa, and that's where I start to tear up.

Because, his grandpa really loved him. And that goes a long way with softening my heart. So, I guess I'm human after all. I just hope that my tears don't look fake tomorrow or Thursday. They are real. And so is the sadness.

It's Over

Pat's dad died yesterday. Pat was able to be with him in the end, so I am happy for that, because he is happy that he was there. I don't know how I would've felt had I been with my dad when he took his last breath. I don't know if that would have made it easier or not. But that's not what this entry is about.

I am not sure how I can comfort Pat. I of course gave him a hug when he finally got home last night. I will take phone calls for him when he just can't answer the phone anymore. I will be there, waiting for him to open up on me or unleash his grief and/or anger. And I will of course accept condolences from people to pass along to him. I will be there to remind him that he was a wonderful son to his father, no matter what other people might say, and I will defend him and his decisions until my own dying breath.

But I am not grieving the way he is. I couldn't. If his dad had died years ago, before we got engaged, I would have been really upset. But the past 3 plus years of my life have been so different from the previous 6 1/2... when Pat and I were just dating.

I am of course saddened for my husband's loss. I will grieve with him. I will help him to remember the "good times" he had with his dad. I will help Nathaniel remember his Grandpa (because despite how little I liked the man, N loved him, and he loved Nathaniel). I will never take that from him. In fact, I think the only positive thing about the man was that he did love his grandson. I have always acknowledged that.

I will work to not let my hatred for him cloud Nathaniel's feelings and memories, if he should carry any into the future. (He is only 2, afterall.)

I am sorry that my son will not grow up with grandfathers. But there are pictures and there are memories that can be kept.

And now, I face a dilemma. One of my 101 things to do was to forgive and forget. Right after Nathaniel's birthday, I had said that I would never be able to do it. I couldn't forgive or forget what he said to me and did to me. What he did just hurt me too much. So here's the dilemma: do I take it off my list and replace it with something else or do I just leave it there, as a reminder that AI couldn't accomplish everything?

Thinking of My Dad

Tomorrow is Father's Day. I am really missing my dad this weekend. It's the first Father's Day without my dad, and I am doing my best to process and deal with my feelings, which is why I am here this morning. I do plan to go to the cemetary tomorrow morning. But until then, some pictures of Dad with Nathaniel.


Nathaniel and Bumpa


I wish I had more...

A Precious Gift

When my dad was dying, my mom kept asking me what of his I wanted. I already had a painting that he had done (as all my sisters do). But there was nothing other than the painting that I really wanted. I kept saying that I have all of my dad that I need in my mind and in my heart. (Some would add "in my temperament.")

I retell his stories to both Pat and Nathaniel. "Moosehead in the trunk" anyone? How about the time that he got beat for nearly blinding his aunt while pretending to be the Three Stooges. Pick two, pick two... The time he made Uncle Arnold eat the ink stamper. Pennsylvania Rabbit. The turtle lady on his paper route. I thought that I had all that I needed.

When my mom was packing up the house that they shared, she gave me her hope chest. In the middle of it is a big worn spot. My dad made that by sitting on it every day for over 30 years while he was getting ready for work.

Yes, I have plenty to remember him by.

When he died last summer (how is it that i's almost a year already?), my mom asked again. What do you want of dad's? What do you want of dad's?

I have memories, I would tell her. Counting his fingers in church and marveling at the fact that there were five on each hand which made it so easy to count to ten. Christmas Parades. The first time I remember him saying he was proud of me (December 12, 2002 when I graduated with Honors from Trinity.) When he walked me down the aisle at my wedding. (I had asked him what he preferred to do. He told me he would be so proud to walk me.)

So again I say I have plenty to remember him by. But, does Nathaniel?

On Tuesday, my Mom came over to go computer shopping with Pat. She had brought a gift for Nathaniel. Not uncommon, given that it's my mom. She gave it to Pat with instructions to show it to me when I came home from work. I guess Mom was really excited for me to see it. She called around 4:30. Pat, being Pat, had completely forgotten about it. While I was on the phone with her, he went and got a small brown pouch and handed it to me. I couldn't imagine what could be inside a bag like that.

I opened it up and out came my dad's gold watch. I never imagined that it could be that. I instantly thought of all the places Nathaniel could wear it. HIs HS graduation. College Graduation. Maybe his wedding.

I stammered many thank yous to my mom, since I was just so surprised. But what she told me next left me speechless. (Pat was not, and if you've seen Pulp Fiction, the part with Christopher Walken, you know what he was saying.) The last timme my dad wore that watch was on my wedding day. I like to think that he was very happy that day and happy for me.

Nathaniel will never remember how soft Dad's hands always were. He'll never remember how hard Dad could laugh. Nathaniel will never see that they have the exact same big toe (although we will tell him). Now, he can have a physical reminder that he had a Bumpa, who loved him very much, even though their time together was all too short.

Another one down, but harder than I thought

I got another of my 101 things done today. I finished number 13, organize Nathaniel's baby pictures. They were the pictures my mom took, from his Baptism to just after his first birthday. They were so bittersweet to look at. I love seeing how much my baby has grown, and I love all the changes he's gone through. But, there were pictures of him and my dad in there, and those made me cry. Some days the pain is still so acute, even though he's been gone since last July. My one regret is that I don't have a lot of pictures of Nathaniel with him. Of course, Nathaniel knows that the man in the pictures is "Bumpa" and he calls him that, but he will never know how funny my dad was. I see a lot of my dad in him, especially when he gives me those smart-ass looks of his. just so dad.
At Dad's surprise birthday party

Who made that smell?

Nathaniel and Bumpa


It also brought out the tears since I won't be having another squishy baby as soon as I thought I was going to. That's been on the forefront of my mind today though. I was shopping for a friend's baby shower, and thought to myself "No problem. I can handle this." Well, as it turned out, I couldn't. I broke down right there in the middle of the baby section of Target. In his usual knowing style, Nathaniel gave me a hug and said "cry?" It was just what I needed. He helps remind me f all the blessings that I already have.