Gone but not Forgotten
I'm not putting this under a cut.
On Aug 6th, my father suddenly passed away at home. It was completely unexpected and a shock to us all. I am a major daddy's girl and I am crushed that my dad is no longer here. I spent Monday-Friday with him on a band field watching him teach his students as I taught my girls. He's the band director at a local high school and I taught his color guard, for those of you that didn't know. I was lucky enough to work with him as a colleague not just as my dad. It is something I'll never forget. Prior to the day he died, I was standing in his truck, oh how he loved that little Dodge Dakota, with him re-writing drill to accompany my flag choreography. My aunt had driven by and saw us and wish she had had a camera on her. It was a sight let me tell you, the both of us standing on top of an aluminum podium perched in the back of a little pick up truck. I have that drill we wrote sitting in a box safe and sound. It was the last thing I did with him other than show him what I had written the day after. The day he passed I watched as he pranced around the field, calling out counts to drill and being Dad. No one would have ever imagined that that would be the last time the East High School Tartan Regiment would be under the Direction of Mr. Scoot Brehm. After rehearsal that day, I went home and packed for my weekend trip with my friend, Melanie to the Ohio State Fair. THe both of us had been members of the choir there and it was alumni day. I went to a bridal shower with my mom, while my dad went to do his other favorite thing in the world, umpiring softball. My mom dropped me off at my friends and she returned home.
Around midnight, my sister came to the house, beating on windows and the door trying to wake someone. I walked out of my room to see her screaming and crying. I opened the door and she screamed "Dad's had a heart attack!" My heart sank. I froze trying to comprehend what my sister had said. Finally my body reacted and I ran through the house trying to find my shoes. I run out to the van and my sister informs me that he wasn't breathing when the ambulance arrived. I started to shake and cry as our neighbor drove us to the ER. I called my friend Amber, hoping I hadn't woken her up. When we arrived the took my sister and I back tot he family room and all I remember seeing was my mom on her knees praying that dad be ok. I dropped my phone and dropped to my knees, as I began to hyperventilate. I calmed down enough, thanks to Amber, and got up to sit down. It wasn't much later that the doctor came in and told us that dead was gone and that they had tried everything to save him. I screamed, still on the phone with Amber. I don't remember what happened next but I remember my phone began to ring and I answered, it was Amber. She asked what happened and I told her that he was gone, "My daddy's gone!" I didn't know what to do. I hung up with Amber and ran out the door. I needed to be alone. My aunt followed me out. I called Melanie, waking her and told her she got up and got dressed. She came to the hospital and sat with me. Melanie finally got me to the family room and the doctor came back in and told us that we were able to go see him and say good bye but we weren't allowed to touch him and that they had to keep the tubes and stuff still in him because his body was now evidence because of his age and sudden passing. They began to tell us that they would have to due an autopsy and mom objected but we didn't have a choice because he technically died at home and that he was healthy. Melanie took my hand and I held it tightly as the doctors took us to the trauma room where he was. I peeked in and collapsed to the floor. My mom and sister both were hysterical. I began to hyperventilate again and was given an inhaler to try to stop the attack. It was controlled and I sat in the hall, with my knees to my chest crying. I could hear Melanie who had wrapped her arms around me, crying above me. She pulled my face up and told me that I needed to say goodbye but I didn't know how I could. Also the doctors said that I needed to move or they would have to sedate me. I finally got up and went into see him. I will never forget that image for as long as I live. I said goodbye as best I could without touching him. That night I went home with Melanie and continued on with my weekend, because mom insisted that I go. I wouldn't be any help at all. I was angry.
The following Tuesday and Weds were the hardest days of my life. I hadn't seen dad since the hospital on that Thursday. Mom went in first and then the rest of the family came in after. I couldn't believe that my daddy was laying there. He looked good, smiling. I made it halfway to him and couldn't go any further. I lost it. Finally as the family cleared I pulled myself away from my aunt and walked alone to him. I gently touched his cheek and leaned down, laying my head on his chest as my hand held his. I cried silent tears as I looked at him. I hated saying goodbye to the man who raised me, the man who gave me my love for all things music, the man who taught me that growing old is required but growing up is a choice. He was the biggest kid I knew. The school had insisted we hold his funeral at the high school gymnasium, due to sheer adoration and love for him. They were right to do so. The gym was packed full of people who came to show their respects for him. The high school choir sang one of dad's favorite Jazz Band pieces as the band played a Song For Friends and Amazing Grace. It was the biggest and most beautiful service I'd ever seen.
I will never get over his love for music and his dedication to his student. Yes he'd call them his turdlings or PITA (pain in the ass) but he loved each and everyone of those kids. He was all about teaching them. He wasn't in it for the trophies or the Superior rating, he was there to share his love of music with kids who could appreciate it. He was an outstanding man, teacher, friend and husband. He will always remain in my eyes the best father a girl could ask for. My dad was a man who would put everyone else needs before his own and made sure that every underprivileged child that wanted to be in band, had a horn in their hands. I should know, my own saxophone had been put on loan several times. He took the time in his history classroom to teach the kids some teachers thought were trouble makers or misunderstood. he made them learn, and made it fun. I remember hearing stories of how he'd use crash cymbals to wake a sleeping student or how he'd prance around hi class room. He made it fun so they'd remember what they were learning. I would walk into his classroom at the end of the day and laugh at the wall of "Brehmfinitions" they were his own way of teaching vocabulary words so they would remember the terms.
In closing I want to thank all of my friends, real life and online that helped me and were there for me. You all have been so wonderful and caring. I'll never be able to show you how truly and deeply appreciative I am.
I MISS YOU DADDY!!! ONE DAY I'LL MARCH WITH YOU AGAIN IN THAT ANGEL BAND!
On Aug 6th, my father suddenly passed away at home. It was completely unexpected and a shock to us all. I am a major daddy's girl and I am crushed that my dad is no longer here. I spent Monday-Friday with him on a band field watching him teach his students as I taught my girls. He's the band director at a local high school and I taught his color guard, for those of you that didn't know. I was lucky enough to work with him as a colleague not just as my dad. It is something I'll never forget. Prior to the day he died, I was standing in his truck, oh how he loved that little Dodge Dakota, with him re-writing drill to accompany my flag choreography. My aunt had driven by and saw us and wish she had had a camera on her. It was a sight let me tell you, the both of us standing on top of an aluminum podium perched in the back of a little pick up truck. I have that drill we wrote sitting in a box safe and sound. It was the last thing I did with him other than show him what I had written the day after. The day he passed I watched as he pranced around the field, calling out counts to drill and being Dad. No one would have ever imagined that that would be the last time the East High School Tartan Regiment would be under the Direction of Mr. Scoot Brehm. After rehearsal that day, I went home and packed for my weekend trip with my friend, Melanie to the Ohio State Fair. THe both of us had been members of the choir there and it was alumni day. I went to a bridal shower with my mom, while my dad went to do his other favorite thing in the world, umpiring softball. My mom dropped me off at my friends and she returned home.
Around midnight, my sister came to the house, beating on windows and the door trying to wake someone. I walked out of my room to see her screaming and crying. I opened the door and she screamed "Dad's had a heart attack!" My heart sank. I froze trying to comprehend what my sister had said. Finally my body reacted and I ran through the house trying to find my shoes. I run out to the van and my sister informs me that he wasn't breathing when the ambulance arrived. I started to shake and cry as our neighbor drove us to the ER. I called my friend Amber, hoping I hadn't woken her up. When we arrived the took my sister and I back tot he family room and all I remember seeing was my mom on her knees praying that dad be ok. I dropped my phone and dropped to my knees, as I began to hyperventilate. I calmed down enough, thanks to Amber, and got up to sit down. It wasn't much later that the doctor came in and told us that dead was gone and that they had tried everything to save him. I screamed, still on the phone with Amber. I don't remember what happened next but I remember my phone began to ring and I answered, it was Amber. She asked what happened and I told her that he was gone, "My daddy's gone!" I didn't know what to do. I hung up with Amber and ran out the door. I needed to be alone. My aunt followed me out. I called Melanie, waking her and told her she got up and got dressed. She came to the hospital and sat with me. Melanie finally got me to the family room and the doctor came back in and told us that we were able to go see him and say good bye but we weren't allowed to touch him and that they had to keep the tubes and stuff still in him because his body was now evidence because of his age and sudden passing. They began to tell us that they would have to due an autopsy and mom objected but we didn't have a choice because he technically died at home and that he was healthy. Melanie took my hand and I held it tightly as the doctors took us to the trauma room where he was. I peeked in and collapsed to the floor. My mom and sister both were hysterical. I began to hyperventilate again and was given an inhaler to try to stop the attack. It was controlled and I sat in the hall, with my knees to my chest crying. I could hear Melanie who had wrapped her arms around me, crying above me. She pulled my face up and told me that I needed to say goodbye but I didn't know how I could. Also the doctors said that I needed to move or they would have to sedate me. I finally got up and went into see him. I will never forget that image for as long as I live. I said goodbye as best I could without touching him. That night I went home with Melanie and continued on with my weekend, because mom insisted that I go. I wouldn't be any help at all. I was angry.
The following Tuesday and Weds were the hardest days of my life. I hadn't seen dad since the hospital on that Thursday. Mom went in first and then the rest of the family came in after. I couldn't believe that my daddy was laying there. He looked good, smiling. I made it halfway to him and couldn't go any further. I lost it. Finally as the family cleared I pulled myself away from my aunt and walked alone to him. I gently touched his cheek and leaned down, laying my head on his chest as my hand held his. I cried silent tears as I looked at him. I hated saying goodbye to the man who raised me, the man who gave me my love for all things music, the man who taught me that growing old is required but growing up is a choice. He was the biggest kid I knew. The school had insisted we hold his funeral at the high school gymnasium, due to sheer adoration and love for him. They were right to do so. The gym was packed full of people who came to show their respects for him. The high school choir sang one of dad's favorite Jazz Band pieces as the band played a Song For Friends and Amazing Grace. It was the biggest and most beautiful service I'd ever seen.
I will never get over his love for music and his dedication to his student. Yes he'd call them his turdlings or PITA (pain in the ass) but he loved each and everyone of those kids. He was all about teaching them. He wasn't in it for the trophies or the Superior rating, he was there to share his love of music with kids who could appreciate it. He was an outstanding man, teacher, friend and husband. He will always remain in my eyes the best father a girl could ask for. My dad was a man who would put everyone else needs before his own and made sure that every underprivileged child that wanted to be in band, had a horn in their hands. I should know, my own saxophone had been put on loan several times. He took the time in his history classroom to teach the kids some teachers thought were trouble makers or misunderstood. he made them learn, and made it fun. I remember hearing stories of how he'd use crash cymbals to wake a sleeping student or how he'd prance around hi class room. He made it fun so they'd remember what they were learning. I would walk into his classroom at the end of the day and laugh at the wall of "Brehmfinitions" they were his own way of teaching vocabulary words so they would remember the terms.
In closing I want to thank all of my friends, real life and online that helped me and were there for me. You all have been so wonderful and caring. I'll never be able to show you how truly and deeply appreciative I am.
I MISS YOU DADDY!!! ONE DAY I'LL MARCH WITH YOU AGAIN IN THAT ANGEL BAND!