Happy Birthday

Today is August 7th. It is Dad's birthday. He would have been 69 years old. He died on the 17th of this month. We all threw him a surprise 65th party. We didn't even tell our mom we were throwing it. My husband and the kids and I went to go pick him and mom up to go to his favorite "spaghetti house" for a birthday dinner. Everyone and I mean everyone waited for him at my house to shout "surprise". We told my Dad that we wanted him to go look at the new grass that we had just put in the backyard before we went to dinner. Best thing we could come up with. He started to grumble but eventually got out of the van. When he walked in, everyone yelled and my dad of course when it came down to the speech said, "I guess this means I don't get my spaghetti dinner". We had aunts, uncles, sisters, brothers, cousins in every inch of my house and I am sooo glad that we did this for him. We made sure he took a picture with each family there so that we could have it for memories. Little did we know that he would leave us 7 days later.

He was tired I guess. He was sick off and on for a long time. My dad and I were close. I would like to say that I am a lot like him some ways. Which could be bad or good. My husband and him were like father and son. He came to the house a lot to drink and kick back with our friends. He fit in. The guys would play cards, watch football and boxing and of course drink. He even came to our friends bachelor party that we had at our house. He sat in his chair and watched the festivities and even partaked in some. My sisters never got a chance to see him in action, hell I bet hubby's got a lot more stories than I do. They went fishing a lot towards the end. Hubby, Dad, Porky, Art, Black Ronnie, Danny...all of them. They were a gang. Even though they did drink and I'm sure that the drinking helped speed up his sickness, I was glad that he got to "hang with the boys". My hubby always said that he wasn't going to stop and there was nothing we could do, so why don't we just let him enjoy his life. I'd like to think that he did enjoy his times over here.

I got a call in the early morning one day and it was mom saying Dad wasn't feeling well. I rushed over there with the kids and my mom was trying to help him up off the couch to get washed up to take him to the hospital. I helped him into the bathroom and sat him down on the toilet. My mom left to get a towel and he was starting to mumble. He couldn't sit up anymore and I yelled for mom to call the ambulance, something was wrong. His eyes went to the back of his head and he couldn't speak. I started to cry and tell him "this is it. no more drinking. when you get through this time, that's it. your scaring me" His head lolled up and I couldn't understand what he was saying. I just held him until the ambulance came. When the EMT's came they laid him out in the hall and started to go to work. They took him to the local hospital. As he lay there, they had him hooked up to some mchines, and had one of those monitor thingsy on one of his fingers. He tried talking off and on, but we couldn't understand him. The last thing that my father said that we could make out was, "What is this?", meaning the finger monitor. I expalined to him, its just so that they could find out what was going on. Throughout the next day, I expalined everything that was going on with him and what everybody was doing to him and who was there. I don't even know if he understood or even heard, but I wanted him to hear my voice and to let him know what was what. My mom and I stayed with him thru the night. I slept off and on, but my mom was soo strong. She stood there all night just looking at him. I don't think she slept at all that night. She just stood. Sometime in the early morning or night, I can't remember which, it just kinds of bleed together now, but the priest came in to give him the last rites. My mother and I were able to be there for that. I still didn't think that this was necessary. He was always in and out of the hospital. He would come out just like he always did. He was my dad, of course he would. There was a boxing match the next week. My 10th anniversay was coming up. There was a lot of stuff that he had to be there for. He would get out. Why is the priest there?

In the early morning hours, the doctor said that we had to make a decision. We all went into a room and talked it over. We agreed that my dad did not want to stay on a life support machine. We said to take him off. Papers were signed and family came in to say goodbye. When the machines went off, my dad went very very quickly. I was on his right side, my mom on his left. My hubby, oldest sis/hubby, youngest sis/hubby, i think my Aunt and her daughter...i don't know. I held his hand and talked. I said we were all here, that it was ok, that we would take care of mom, that we loved him. I told him who was in the room, that my middle sis was on the phone (she couldn't come down as of yet), thank you for being my dad, thank you for being there and watching my kids, thank you for picking up the kids from school when it rained....i don't know what the fuck i said. That last one still makes me laugh, why the fuck i would say that, is beyond me to this day. I wanted to say soo much and i said, "thank you for picking up the kids from school when it was raining? what a retard. The doctor came in and said "he's gone". He's gone? I don't get it. I think i went into shock there for a bit. I stood up and went to the corner of the room and just sat there. I remember some people, I think my cousin Joann coming and hugging me....I remember my hubby coming and saying something, I don't know what. We left the hospital and I came home to tell my kids. I won't get into that here. I got it in my head, that I would call everyone. I called everyone that I could think of. I thought maybe the more people I called, it would sink in or something. I called his work. I called his friends. I called the insurance people. I called the De Oro people where he paid into a funeral plan. I called my friends. Anyone and everyone, so that I could keep my mind busy and keep my fingers dialing. The rest is a blur. He's still thought of everday. He's still missed everday. I sit in his orange chair that's in my garage and I cry.

My dad's gone.....that's all I want to say about that.