Sunday, May 24, 2009

Thinking Aloud #9

Before last year events were defined by by happy events-birthdays, anniversaries.
Now it defined by the "last time".

The Sunday morning of Memorial Day weekend 2008--
Hubby and I sat out and had our morning coffee on the deck.
We talked about Joe--his health was not good.
It looked like he had a blood clot in his leg.

He would need help after the surgery and we had a BIG discussion about what that would entail.

Hubby called Joe--he sounded scared.
Hubby explained we had been through this with his mom and we were there to help.
He needed to move closer and he needed to let us in -let us help.

Joe listened and agreed.
Once he got through this hurtle he would come out here and look for places to live out here.
They hung up.
Hubby looked relieved and thought the call went really well.

Hubby said Joe was in pain and having trouble walking.

I called Joe back.
Did he need anything? Did he need food? I could run down some food.

No he said he was fine--really. He had steak, and veggies.
He sounded pleased that I called back.
He said he had a good talk with Hubby and he loved us.

Two days later, I called to tell him Daughter would be playing in a concert near him.
He said he would go if he felt up to it.
He thanked me for thinking of him.
He enjoyed watching Daughter play the violin.

He had a doctor's appointment the next day.
Hubby talked to him.
Things sounded ok--a clot--surgery.
The heart was ok.

The next day Hubby called--no answer.
Next day Hubby called no answer.

Hubby called me at work.
I can't get hold of Dad--

I thought he was having second thoughts about the phone call and " good talk they had".

" Do a well call", I said.
" I can't--will you?", Hubby said.
" Sure--if he going to be mad have him mad at me", I said.

I called the police at lunch and prepare for Joe to be mad at me.
Half hour later--no call back.
Police said they were still checking things out- could they have a number where I was.
My stomach lurched--this what happen with Steven.

20 minutes later my principal arrived.
Sh---, Sh--, I yelled.

How can I tell Hubby his dad is dead now too!

I called Hubby--he said he had a feeling.
I called back the police and started to make arrangements.

And then I went home to tell my children that Papa had died.