My dad died today of a heart attack in the parking lot of a police station. He was on his way to the ER because of chest pains but didn't think he could make it. The people at the police station knew him, understood he was in cardiac arrest, and did everything they could to save him. But after 45 minutes of recitative effort, they let him go.
I am sad that - so abruptly - he is just gone. And that he seemed so manic this Christmas, going on and on about nuclear-spent-fuel, that I did not take you back to see him one more time. And that with his surgery coming up, we didn't get him to our house for a visit. And that all the next times that I have a question about his family history, or want someone to show me how to use a certain tool – I can't just pick up the phone and call him. And that as you get older and more interested in things like tools and engineering and planes and boating, and all the many things he knew about – I won't be able to take you to see him. There is really no other person in the world like him; it will be difficult for you to understand him from stories and photos alone.
I am sorry that I will be leaving you for a few days. And that I will be a wreck as I work through this. Henry - your birthday party has to be canceled. As does mine.
But my gratitude is also great. I have five amazing siblings, aunts and uncles, my mom. Others that will help us through.
The kitchen looks like a love bomb went off. Between dear friends, the Mormons, and the Irish (ahem, Ber) - we will be eating well for weeks.
With all the love in my heart,
xoxo
Mama
