Tribute To Dad

"And when he shall die,take him and cut him into little stars,and he will
make the face of heaven so fine,that all the world will fall in love with
night,and pay no worship to the garish sun".

Everyone tried to prepare me for it: Mom, Alison, Kevin…they all did. With very gentle and carefully chosen words they would describe your physical and mental state of being, hoping that I would be able to handle the sight of you there in your hospital bed with strength and with as little emotional pain as possible. I love them and thank them for it.

It was not as difficult as their preparations had made it seem; I have seen ill people and people on deathbeds, both in person and in my mind’s eye. I have visited and prayed over people in comas, but then I went home. I felt the pain coming from their loved ones; I imagined how it must feel to be in the shoes of their loved one, knowing the person they love is about to leave this world forever…but then I returned to the safety and loving comfort of my own home. I would then call you and be reminded via your voice and laughter that you were still alive and here for me and for your grandbabies.

No, seeing you lying there on your hospital bed was not as hard as I thought it would be. Yes, I did break down in tears and I did say, “Oh my God” as I turned to my sister-in-law and cried in her arms. But my tears were not because of emotional shock due to your physical condition. The tears were due to the recognition of the facts: you were dying and you were never going to be able to be there for me, my brother, your friends, family or grandchildren ever again. I would not return to the safety of my home and call you on your phone. I would never again reminisce about my college years with you, or call you to tell you how Aidan smiled at Cole or how Cole made Aidan laugh. You will never again hear about how Aidan threw his first carrot at Cole. I can’t call to tell you about my friends, Cole’s playgroup, Aidan’s 3 am crying fits, or to be reminded how proud of me you are.

But more than this, even, the tears were because I recognized how much you loved me. You always said it every time you saw me, every time you hung up the phone, every time you talked to one of the grandbabies. But somehow I never really recognized it, or maybe I just took it for granted. When I called your hospice nurse Tuesday, and was told of your condition, I was updated every hour of how you were passing and could go at any moment. Several times, I was told that you would go within the hour, and after your breathing became more labored, your heartrate slowed down to the point of no one being able to determine your pulse, everyone said you should have passed hours ago. But you waited. They all said you waited on me.

I had my doubts about whether or not humans could choose the time of their passing. I had a hard enough time trying to imagine why on earth you would choose to instate a Do Not Resuscitate Order, and an even harder time determining why you would want to pass on in this manner, not to mention how come you were still lingering on after my mother told you that if you needed to go, we all understood. But you hung on…and days later, when no pulse was available to be charted, you were still alive.

Driving three days and nights across the United States was no easy venture and took it’s toll on my husband and I. But what brought me to tears was this. You waited on me. I never knew how special I was to you, until you gave me the gift of closure by waiting until I could be at your bedside to pass on. I walked in at 4:59am. I walked into your room and grabbed your hand. Dad, I sure wish I had been strong enough at that point to say more to you than I did. I am not sure what came out of my mouth at the time, and there were many things I wanted to say but could not. What came out was something like, “Hey Champ, I hear you are holding on for me. You sure are hanging in there well.” Ahh…yeah stupid, I know, but it was the only thing I was strong enough to say at that time. I then grabbed your hand, and my brother, who was never a man of many words, took over. With strength, and dignity, he helped you pass. He said, “Ok Dad she is here now. I know this is what you have been waiting for. She is right here holding your hand. So you can go anytime you want now. We love you Daddy. It’s ok, go on. We love you Daddy”. And you opened your eyes just enough for me to see you, but you could not look at me. Then your breathing slowed down. Slowly, you took your last breaths, and on the very last breath you squeezed my hand, and I watched you leave. I saw your spirit leave your body and stand by me, smiling. I felt you touch my shoulder, and then I felt a love I have never felt before. It was as if all the love you have ever felt for me, Kevin, Mom and the babies was all combined into an unconditional love…wrapped in this one abstract little bundle; a present for us to feel just as you were taking your leave to a better place. And at 5:03am, you were gone.

We all know you are happier where you are now, Dad. But many of us feel as if we did not have enough time for you. I know you want us to let you go, and to move on in happy remembrance of you, and we will. But give us some time, because for some of us, especially for myself, we just were not ready to let you go. In that selfishness and love that we still have, we remain in hopes of hearing your laughter or seeing you pick up Cole and Aidan one last time.

There are many things I could have and should have said to you. If I had the strength, I would have told you I love you, and that I will be okay and that the babies love you, too. Please forgive me for not being able to say the many things you know I wanted to say. Kevin, the brother I thought I came to shelter, took me under his wing and said what I wanted to say. And I know you know this and understand it.

But we love you and remember you laughing, smiling, watching your nascar and fishing with Kevin. I remember you for your love of reading, good movies, sports and cat naps in the late afternoons. I remember you for your love of early morning runs, and later afternoon strolls with the kids. I remember you for all of this and so much more, and you will never be forgotten.

Love always,
Your daughter Pamela

My 1st Love, All Over Again

I never thought I could fall in love with another child in the same way I fell so hard for Cole, my first. Boy, was I wrong! And everyday I look at you, Aidan, my love for you grows even more.

I see your father in your eyes, your adorable but mischievous little smile, your cute little laugh, the way you eat, the way you sleep; in everything you do.

You aren't quite old enough for us to begin to see traits from me just yet. But I see your Dad written all over you. :)

This month you are finally eating baby food and rice cereal and sitting up in your high chair. It is quite adorable. You like it when Cole tries to feed you. You grab the spoon from him, giggling until you run out of air and then stopping to breathe before you resume your hilarity further. You manage to splash baby food in your hair, on the walls, on me...once you got peas in your diaper. I have no idea how that happened!

You still wake up a zillion times a night for bottles. You still don't like to let me put you down for more than five minutes. Your smile melts our hearts, and your laughter brightens the day constantly. Keep on trying to crawl..it is amusing to say the least.

Love,
Mommy

March 2005 Monthly Newsletter for Cole

You were my first love. I never really knew how to fully love another human being in this way, and love as I know it will never match up to the way I love you and your little brother.
Here are some of the highlights of things you have learned all within the month of March 2005.


Copying curse words..I think you assume your first name is Cole and your last name is Damn It. You mimic everything I do from talking, cooking, singing, to dressing yourself (you try but you still put your shoes on the wrong feet and insist upon walking around all day like that, as if you are right). Your nanny about pissed herself when you were attempting to learn how to ride a tricycle for the first time, and your verbal frustration came out when your legs could not reach the petals. "Ohhh shit", you sighed as you plopped down on the ground beside the tricycle in your frustration. Your little friend Orion copied you, and I am sure she has not forgiven me to this day.

I am sorry for my frustrations. You are a bright child, and bright children "get into things".
You do copy attributes other than my potty mouth, such as my cooking for instance. You really love it when I let you stir the batter for brownies and then lick the bowl once I am done pouring the batter into the pan. You watch the stove for every minute of the long forty-five minute waiting session, and for every minute of cooking you have to ask "Are they done yet"? You learned how to make coffee with surprising finesse. I love how you pay attention closely enough to make sure the coffee grounds get pressed firmly enough in the French Press, and then how you scoop out any grounds floating on top of my coffee cup. You always ask for a cup of joe of your own. I prepare you a cup that has only enough coffee in it to maintain the color, but mostly consists of milk. You pretend to sip it as long as I am drinking coffee, also, but then you make yucky faces and spit it out behind my back.

You are almost completely potty trained, and believe me, after over a year of potty-boot-camp-exhaustion, we are soooo relieved. You are even beginning to knock from the inside of your bedroom door at night to tell us when you have to "go stoppy". (That's how 'go potty' is pronounced by you). You never have accidents anymore, and before long the pull ups at night will come off, too. Yay!!


Your bowl cut is gone. Please don't ask me the full story behind it. Let's just say that my hairdressing skills began to lackluster when your squirming skills outgrew them. Of course, I pretended that you wanted this new crew cut, and you do look quite cute. But I miss the bowl, believe me. It was your trademark for so long. So in remembrance of "Cole's Bowl", here you are.


You are becoming more independent each day. You take your own baths, dress yourself, pick out your own underwear, clothes and socks, etc. You brush your own teeth (although I have to finish up because you miss a few spots). You pick out which TV shows you want to watch. You adore "Blue's First Musical Movie", and Bear in The Big Blue House. You especially like it at the end of the latter, when Bear and Luna sing together.

Your psychic abilities are coming out in a surprisingly rampant manner. It really frightened me a bit when you walked into the living room the day before the Pope passed on and said, "Muma and Dada? I want to see the Pope". We turned on the news and you watched stories of his life for half an hour! We were shocked. I asked you later why you wanted to watch The Pope, and you said, "Pope sick"...another shocker.

You have a few friends, but you still prefer staying home with me or going over to your nanny's house to preschool. That's ok. We understand. :)

As I watched you run from me yesterday to play hide and go seek, I wanted to speak the words my heart was crying, "Don't grow so fast. Stay".

Mommy
Cole's Bowl