"To the well organized mind...."

My Daddy passed away on March 3rd.

It's sad.

The nursing home had told me a few days before that it was time to consider hospice because he wasn't eating as well as he had been before, but other than that there were no big immediate problems. Even the doctors don't always know the future.... They called on Sunday morning and asked if I could come because there had been a "change in his condition" which can only mean one thing. The following are the moments I can remember of the blur that followed.

I rushed to get real clothes on as I was still in pj pants and I remember thinking, 'Should I really wear my purple shoes? Do I want to be wearing purple shoes the last time I see my Daddy?' Weird thing to think, but what are you going to do? I went with the purple shoes anyway. I left Timothy home with the boys and set out as fast as I could. I called my greatest friend because I didn't know what else to do and I wanted someone else to know I guess. She said she would meet me there. I remember wondering how I could get Timothy up there too and not coming up with an immediate answer. I remember catching myself speeding a couple of times and how that story would play out with a police officer if I actually did get stopped. I think I cried the whole way.

When I got there I found the nurse that had called me, it had only been about 15-20 minutes. She dropped what she was doing and put her arm through mine and led me down the hall. "We were giving him breakfast and he suddenly got very pale. They are getting him all cleaned up so he will be ready for you to visit. It may be a few minutes or it could be hours."
"But it will be today?"
"Yes. I'm so sorry. Also, I hate to ask, but do you have any funeral plans already set up?"
"Yes, I'll ask my husband to bring the papers."

After a couple of minutes the aides came out and said I could go in now. He was clean shaven and his hair was combed. He was tucked comfortably in his bed under a white blanket and looked like he was sleeping. I tried to talk to him but I didn't get a response. I called my mom and asked if she could go to my house because I needed Timothy, she said she would. I called Timothy and told him where the papers were. I was pacing the room feeling lost.

The director of nurses came in and told me I should talk to him because he could hear me. She told him I was there then she left again. I was crying again. I sat down on the bed, "Hi Daddy. I love you." It was all I could manage and then I just leaned down to hug him. That's where I was when a nurse named Christine came in. She sat right down with me and called me "Sista" and started praying. She had the prettiest Africian accent I have ever heard. When she finished we both looked at Daddy and knew he was gone. She put her hand on his chest for a minute and checked for a pulse and couldn't find it. I was pacing again. She went to get the director again. They told me to sit in a chair, so I did. The director gave someone a watch and said they needed to time her for two minutes while she checked for signs. I remember thinking that would be an awful long time for someone to just be holding their breath, but there's no hiding a heartbeat. One of the aides said ever so quietly, "Aww, no more Joe-Joe. That's what I would call him when I came to wake him up to eat."

This entire process took place within 45 minutes of the phone call that started it all.

They left again and I was still in the chair when Sally came in. We sat for awhile and said all the comforting things to each other then we moved to the lobby because I didn't want Timothy to have to come in that room. (Sally is a tough nurse herself, so I wasn't much worried about her, but looking back it's probably creepy for anyone to witness.) When Timothy came we sat around and chatted a bit. Calls to the funeral home were made and arrangements were set up for transport. We talked about Doctor Who of all things and had some good laughs. Then we realized there wasn't anything else for us to do so we all went home.

I had been trying to call Brother this whole time. I left messages everywhere I knew. He finally called back about 4 hours later. They were camping and didn't have the phones turned on to save the batteries. We decided he should go in to work the next day to wrap things up since he would be gone for awhile and then he would fly out on Tuesday. 

That afternoon we went to Collin's first soccer practice. It was weird. I put on my fake smile and got through it. You can't introduce yourself to new people by explaining that your father just died today, but look how cute all the kids are playing soccer. I felt like I was floating. Like watching myself go through the motions. It was just the start of the weirdness. I also started texting everyone to let them know. Lots and lots of texting.

Monday, Timothy took off work to go with me to the funeral home and meet with the Pastor about the memorial service. At the funeral home we had to sign some papers and I almost laughed out loud when I was handed a paper to sign that stated that "cremation is an irreversible process." It was actually quite insane. I started to think of the Humpty Dumpty nursery rhyme in my head and how they couldn't put him back together again. When we met with the Pastor, Timothy was really helpful with picking out things to include in the service. I was glad he was there.

Tuesday, I went to hang out with Sally again because she's one of my favorite people and her house happens to be close to the airport where I would need to pick up Brother that afternoon. We watched "The Eleventh Hour" which was a good laugh and a good distraction. Then I got to spend some nice time with my godchildren after they came home from school. Cooper even talked me into jumping on the trampoline!

Once Brother was here a whole new mood set in. When he's here, he has just as much authority as I do in the decision making so I don't have to do it on my own. There ended up being a lot of down time when we didn't have much to do. Which translates into a lot of time playing old school Zelda. It was the late 80s all over again. There was also a lot of Bueno and a lot of Whataburger because those are the foods that he misses most living in California. The boys were super excited to hang out with Uncle Brother and especially Owen was crawling all over him the whole time. We spent some time going through old photo albums and picking out pictures of Dad to make a collage for the service. At some point we finally figured out how to order a headstone for the grave. That one took some work. We coordinated with the cemetery association about the burial.  We made bacon pancakes.

The service was lovely and we saw quite a few people from Dad's side of the family there. We don't stay in touch with anyone so it was like meeting them all over again because it had been so long. At first I didn't even want to have a service because I felt like no one was there for Daddy in his last year so why should they get to be there now? But I know it was the right thing to do so that everyone could say goodbye and have closure. There were a lot of people that cared about him even if they didn't come to visit.

It turns out that it takes a lot longer than I would have guessed for a person to be cremated. I suppose with it being an irreversible process and all they want to get it right. There are lots of forms to be filled out and doctors and medical examiners and whatever else to sign off on. It ended up taking about 10 days until we were able to pick him up from the funeral home. Daddy wanted to be buried next to his parents out in the country close to where he grew up. This is an old cemetery and it's no longer maintained. This means it's a do it yourself kind of job. I know, right?! Brother and I set out early in the morning, but I don't think either of us expected it to be as big of a job as it turned out to be. He used a pickax and I used a shovel. He certainly did most of the work, but it was a big job. We dug about 3 feet deep in the hard Texas clay. It took about 2 and a half hours to get it completed. We were grateful for the nice weather we had that day. It would have really sucked in the summer.We were so tired that we cancelled our plans to go try to locate Dad's old farm house where he grew up. That will just have to wait for another time, or maybe it will never happen. I think we both felt like we were done after that. That night Brother and I stayed up way too late talking like we hadn't just spent the last 9 days mostly together. This was the longest we had spent together since we had both lived at our parents house which was probably 1998. It was nice to have him here for so long. The next day I sent him back home and the weird came back.

Now it's time to remember how to be normal. I go back to work tomorrow after 2 weeks off. That's going to be all kinds of not fun. I think any time someone dies there are a lot of what ifs and whys. I have those too. I really wish I had gone to visit the day before instead of doing laundry instead of putting it off. I was planning to go visit the day he died at lunch time because that's when he normally talks to me the most. He was gone by 9 in the morning. I know I can't get hung up on those things because there's no changing it now. I have also found tons of things to be grateful for. I'm glad I was able to answer the phone when they called me. 10 minutes later I would have been in the shower and I could have missed the whole thing. I'm so grateful that Christine was with me and I didn't have to go looking for a nurse to tell them he was gone. I grateful that my Daddy left this world to the sounds of a beautiful prayer. I glad he was peaceful and I'm glad it was quick. I'm glad I was with him and I'm glad I had people with me. Mostly, I'm grateful that I was able to have this great adventure with my Daddy the last few years, and I'm glad I was able to be his best friend and in the end and he knew I loved him.

The last time I was able to have a real conversation with him was about 3 weeks before he died.

"Do you remember me today?"

"I'm pretty sure you're in here somewhere."

Stupid Candy

This afternoon we all went to the Watauga Christmas tree lighting festivities. The boys had been looking forward to it for several weeks since we got our November city newsletter.

The park was decorated like the board game Candy Land. There were volunteers walking around dressed as the characters King Candy, Queen Frostine, Princess Lolly and the evil Lord Licorice. It was nicely done.

 
There were different grassy areas that had various candy spread on the ground. There was Lollipop Woods with suckers, Peppermint Forrest with candy canes, and something with boxes of gum drops. There was tons of candy so we told the boys they could get one of each kind. While they were picking out what they wanted, one of the volunteers came over and told us it wasn't time to get candy yet because there was a hunt organized for later. So of course we had them put it back. As Timothy said at the time, it would have been nice if they had put a sign out or something.

There was a miniature train ride for the children. We got there just in time to see it fill up and told the boys we would have to wait for it to come back but it wouldn't be long because it was only a 5 to 10 minute ride. The train came back and the boys were off. So much fun!

While they were on the ride the organizers passed out plastic bags and someone blew a whistle and there was a mad scramble for all that candy. The train came back, the boys got off all smiles and I informed them it was finally time to get some candy. But when we got back everything was gone except for the lollipops! All those gumdrops and candy canes, seriously? I told the boys to each pick out one lollipop. Some teenagers had bags full of candy but others were kids whose parents were congratulating them on the huge amounts of candy they had!

Collin and Owen were crushed almost to the point of tears. They really wanted that Candy Land candy. The part that got me was that I know other people noticed because Collin was not quiet about it. "Why does he get a HUGE bag of candy and all I get is ONE SUCKER?" I almost went to ask one lady who was with 3 children if we might could have just one box of gumdrops from their pile, but I changed my mind because I know she saw my upset kids and didn't offer. I told the boys to go grab one more sucker because apparently safety suckers are lame and for babies and no one wants those. It was time to go.

This is not about candy. I could buy them candy. It's about parents not setting a good example for their kids. No one needs 30 boxes of gumdrops or 50 candy canes. And no, I'm not even kidding. I am at a loss as to how any parent would let their child bring home that amount of candy much less congratulate them on a job well done. What was I saying the other day about not judging people?

Pot Pie

During a high school lunch break in 1995, somehow the topic of conversation turned to what we all had eaten for breakfast. Back then meals were pretty much a fend for yourself type of affair at my house, so my breakfast of choice that day had been a microwave chicken pot pie. It seemed sensible at the time. Timothy thought this was ridiculous and teased me about it. It has been brought up a few times over the years.

If only I had a time machine. I would have blown his little 15 year old mind by telling him in 17 years not only would we be married with two children but he would be eating turkey pot pie for breakfast! As of today, he can no longer make fun of me. :P

I made a yummy turkey pot pie last night with leftover Thanksgiving turkey. It was the first time I made it and I was pretty happy with how it turned out, but I think I have ideas on how to make it better next time. :-)

Too Many Chips!

The lovely Mexican place down the street from work has a great deal for a cheap lunch. I go every couple weeks or so and get chips and salsa and queso for about $3.50. The portions are huge. It may sound like a snack, but trust me.

The problem is they give a huge bags of chips with every order. (I normally get take out) It doesn't matter if I just order salsa, I walk out with a two pound bag of chips that will mostly end up in the trash. I feel guilty about this, but I'm not going to keep eating plain corn chips after the salsa is gone. They give free chips when you dine in, so I suppose they aren't too fussed about it.

So why does it bother me?

How My Cousins Changed the Way I Think

Timothy's cousin Benny lives in Colorado. Before this year I had met him once, briefly, at a funeral with lots of other Nowells that I was meeting for the first time. Through the magic that is the Internet we ended up Facebook friends. Then someone friend requested the other because we have the same last name and I was Facebook friends with his wife Niki too. Little did I know at the time that sending/confirming those friend requests would actually change some of my outlooks on life. I have had the chance to hang out with them and their awesome kids twice this year. In Texas and Colorado.

I now have 2 more strong prayer warriors that I know I can call on any time. Also, there just aren't enough nerds in the world so I'm happy to have expanded that group as well. Niki has especially become one of my closest friends (it's a girl thing) and I'm so happy to have her in my life.

Benny and Niki have a group called Sevens that works with the homeless in Denver. They work with others to provide a meal for their street friends once a week. If you are able, you may consider a donation to help. You can check out the website here.

Since getting to know my Colorado cousins (mostly online) I have a whole new outlook on homeless people. Before I was just scared of them and would avoid eye contact and probably hold tighter to my purse. Now, when I can, I try to help. I will go back into a store I've just come out of and buy a snack for someone. Honestly, it still makes me a little nervous, but it also makes me feel good to help someone.

Yesterday I stopped for gas while I was out with the boys. Normally they will stay in the car while I pay at the pump and fill up. I noticed two men sitting near the dumpster across the parking lot. One of them was very old and frail looking. After getting gas, I took the boys inside and bought hot dogs and water and a couple other items for them. I explained to the kids that the two men didn't have a place to live. They understood and wanted to help. We took the food out to them and told them happy thanksgiving and God bless. They smiled and the younger one waved to the kids as we left.

I believe that helping people without question or judgement is what God would have us to do. Too bad it's not easier to do because the world would probably be a better place.

Tales From the Nursing Home

I went to visit Daddy this afternoon and found him on the floor next to his bed. He falls a lot trying to get himself out of bed without help. They have moved him to a bed that is lower to the floor and there is a mat spread out next to it to help minimize injuries. He wasn't hurt, but as I'm not able to get him up on my own I had to get help.

After he was safely in his chair I took him for a walk through the halls. He was being really uncooperative today and kept putting his feet down and trying to stand up. He also gets really concerned when there is a change to the pattern on the floor like tile changing to carpet. We had to stop and have a discussion about it every time we crossed a threshold. He kicked off his shoes at one point and that was another stop to put them back on. It turns out I don't have any patience today because this was all incredibly frustrating for me. Looking back, it's a bit like trying to push a baby that does not want to be confined to a stroller.

We finally got back to his room and I got him back into bed. Then he would not stop messing with the pillow. It's a very thick pillow and before he had a thin one that he would fold in half. This one was not going to fold, but I wasn't able to communicate that to him. I just wanted him to talk to me but the pillow was more important to him at the moment.

I told him it was time for me to leave. He said, "Well okay. Did you have fun?"

Sigh. "Yeah, Daddy, I had fun."

"Good. So did I." Then he closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Good News

On October 25th Daddy was moved to another temporary psychiatric hospital because he was acting out aggressively again towards the staff of the nursing home. The administrator was incredibly nice about the whole thing. He said he wanted to get Dad's meds sorted out before it got to be too out of control. They promised me that his room would be waiting for him when he was ready to come back. He was moved to Arlington and stayed for 13 days. When I called to check on him a day before he was set to be transferred back to the nursing home the nurse gave me the incredible news that he had started walking again! : D Apparently the doctors were able to find a good combination for his meds and it has really made a big difference. I went to see him at the nursing home last Wednesday which was his first day back. He recognized me right away! I've been back twice since then and he's known me each time. He doesn't know my name, but he knows I'm his daughter. He's walking a little, which is wonderful, but I'm more happy that he knows me again. When it was time to leave the other day I told him to try hard not to forget me again. He said that he sure would try because I'm his favorite person and he doesn't ever want to forget me again. I'm cautiously optimistic, but as of right now - today - I have my Daddy back a little bit.