The things that we've lost
The last 48 hours have kind of been a blur. Fast-paced, don't stop to rest, can't catch a breath... blur.
Wednesday morning Colin's dad was found dead. They believe it was a major heart attack, although Rick didn't want an autopsy to be done. Patty has been busy making the funeral arrangements... I really hope that she managed to get some good sleep last night, because she's been running on adrenaline for a while now. Visitation hours are today at their church 6pm-8pm; the funeral is tomorrow morning. It still just doesn't seem real.
Last winter he had a minor heart attack and had to be flown to Grand Rapids. He got lucky, changed his diet, seemed to be doing really well. He was only 52, not old enough to die yet. The doctor says there's no medical reason that this should have happened, although doctors often say a lot of things that aren't exactly the truth. The only way to know for sure would have been an autopsy. But we do know that when he went in to have his heart checked in September, everything was fine. No problems, no concerns.
And now he's dead.
Rick's Obituary
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When you're younger and someone dies, it just seems unreal. You don't think past the here and now. You see that everyone is sad, possibly crying, but you aren't actually touched by it so much as you become a passive onlooker. But as you grow older, you become aware of the future. When someone dies, they are ripped out of that future. Suddenly everything flashes before your eyes, all of the events that you thought that person would be there for, and suddenly you have to imagine everything without that person. Its like a part of your heart tears away and disappears.
When I was very young my Great Grandpa Hoover passed away. I don't remember anything about him.
When I was a little older my Grandpa Blum passed away. I remember sitting on his lap while he gave me candy. I have strange "memories" of a house that my mom claims doesn't exist, but when I told my dad about it, it pulled at him the same way as it did me. Until I told them about it, I always assumed it was the house that Grandma and Grandpa B lived in until he died. Mom and Dad say its not, but I have these memories. When he died, I remember Dad leaving to drive to Ohio. He didn't make it in time to say goodbye, and Grandpa was cremated immediately. Later on it would become a running joke that my family deals with their angst by moving bodies around, because when Grandma B moved she took Grandpa B with her, without telling his sister. I don't think anyone really likes his sister very much, apparently. I've never met her.
A little while later my Great Grandma Hoover passed away. She had had two strokes, could barely speak anymore, and needed constant care. When I was much younger, she made me birthday cakes, decorated to look like the dress of a plastic doll topper. I have a picture of her giving me a ride in the basket of her bike. She loved owls, and had them everywhere in her house before she moved into the assisted living building. She passed away about a month after her last grandchild, my Uncle Craig, was married. I think she held out for that, even though she wasn't able to come to the wedding. That was in 2000.
A few years later, Grandma Blum passed away. I think it was time for her, too. She seemed a lot happier after she moved to Arizona with three of her kids. We weren't nearly as close to the Blum side of our family as we were the Martin side... but I think what I remember most is the funny stories. Dad liked to tell me about one time that Grandma leaned over the table, then sat back plucking at her shirt and exclaiming "Got my tit in the ketchup!" I remember that she swore by Noxema, too. The old-school, harsh stuff. She had beautiful skin. At Grandma B's funeral, Dad overheard Grandpa's sister remarking to someone else "I wonder where they moved Gus [Grandpa B]."
Just a little while ago - last year or the year before - a girl that was in the Sociology program at Hillsdale with me died, the victim of a horrible car crash. I never really knew her that well, other than that she was a Sociology major and a Chi Omega. Mom, Dad and I all went to her funeral. Laying in the casket, it didn't look like Jessica.
Now here we are. Richard Sudds, my father-in-law. The role model and hero of the man that I love. Like a second father to me, and loved by so many. He welcomed me into his family with open arms, standing up at our wedding reception and giving one of the most beautiful speeches I've ever heard. He gave us the written copy. I have it somewhere with our other wedding things for the scrapbook. It just doesn't seem possible that he's gone.
Wednesday morning Colin's dad was found dead. They believe it was a major heart attack, although Rick didn't want an autopsy to be done. Patty has been busy making the funeral arrangements... I really hope that she managed to get some good sleep last night, because she's been running on adrenaline for a while now. Visitation hours are today at their church 6pm-8pm; the funeral is tomorrow morning. It still just doesn't seem real.
Last winter he had a minor heart attack and had to be flown to Grand Rapids. He got lucky, changed his diet, seemed to be doing really well. He was only 52, not old enough to die yet. The doctor says there's no medical reason that this should have happened, although doctors often say a lot of things that aren't exactly the truth. The only way to know for sure would have been an autopsy. But we do know that when he went in to have his heart checked in September, everything was fine. No problems, no concerns.
And now he's dead.
Rick's Obituary
----------
When you're younger and someone dies, it just seems unreal. You don't think past the here and now. You see that everyone is sad, possibly crying, but you aren't actually touched by it so much as you become a passive onlooker. But as you grow older, you become aware of the future. When someone dies, they are ripped out of that future. Suddenly everything flashes before your eyes, all of the events that you thought that person would be there for, and suddenly you have to imagine everything without that person. Its like a part of your heart tears away and disappears.
When I was very young my Great Grandpa Hoover passed away. I don't remember anything about him.
When I was a little older my Grandpa Blum passed away. I remember sitting on his lap while he gave me candy. I have strange "memories" of a house that my mom claims doesn't exist, but when I told my dad about it, it pulled at him the same way as it did me. Until I told them about it, I always assumed it was the house that Grandma and Grandpa B lived in until he died. Mom and Dad say its not, but I have these memories. When he died, I remember Dad leaving to drive to Ohio. He didn't make it in time to say goodbye, and Grandpa was cremated immediately. Later on it would become a running joke that my family deals with their angst by moving bodies around, because when Grandma B moved she took Grandpa B with her, without telling his sister. I don't think anyone really likes his sister very much, apparently. I've never met her.
A little while later my Great Grandma Hoover passed away. She had had two strokes, could barely speak anymore, and needed constant care. When I was much younger, she made me birthday cakes, decorated to look like the dress of a plastic doll topper. I have a picture of her giving me a ride in the basket of her bike. She loved owls, and had them everywhere in her house before she moved into the assisted living building. She passed away about a month after her last grandchild, my Uncle Craig, was married. I think she held out for that, even though she wasn't able to come to the wedding. That was in 2000.
A few years later, Grandma Blum passed away. I think it was time for her, too. She seemed a lot happier after she moved to Arizona with three of her kids. We weren't nearly as close to the Blum side of our family as we were the Martin side... but I think what I remember most is the funny stories. Dad liked to tell me about one time that Grandma leaned over the table, then sat back plucking at her shirt and exclaiming "Got my tit in the ketchup!" I remember that she swore by Noxema, too. The old-school, harsh stuff. She had beautiful skin. At Grandma B's funeral, Dad overheard Grandpa's sister remarking to someone else "I wonder where they moved Gus [Grandpa B]."
Just a little while ago - last year or the year before - a girl that was in the Sociology program at Hillsdale with me died, the victim of a horrible car crash. I never really knew her that well, other than that she was a Sociology major and a Chi Omega. Mom, Dad and I all went to her funeral. Laying in the casket, it didn't look like Jessica.
Now here we are. Richard Sudds, my father-in-law. The role model and hero of the man that I love. Like a second father to me, and loved by so many. He welcomed me into his family with open arms, standing up at our wedding reception and giving one of the most beautiful speeches I've ever heard. He gave us the written copy. I have it somewhere with our other wedding things for the scrapbook. It just doesn't seem possible that he's gone.