(no subject)
Last friday night, my Father was brought to me in a small box.
A very nice, dignified, respectful man came by and talked to me at length, explaining everything to me, but mostly he just brought my Dad back to me in a box. It was a lot smaller and lighter than I thought it would be. He weighed about 180, and even given the fact that he probably lost some weight towards the end, he had to be 160. Now he weighs less than a gallon of milk and would fit into a shoebox. Maybe burial would have been better, I dunno. We still haven't decided what we're ultimately going to do with the ashes. We're going to have a ceremony sometime when we're ready, but after that we still don't know. Arlington cemetary is apparently an option, since my Dad was a vet. My Mom may want to keep him closer to home as well. I just don't know. For now I have him.
I feel good about the place we chose. I trust them and there's a non-profit organization that acts as a watchdog to funeral homes and crematories that rated them very very highly. Even if they hadn't recommended them, I would be happy. They asked all the right questions. They wanted recent photos to help make sure there was no mixup at the morgue. They took serious care to keep the chain of custody intact so that I can feel secure that this is, in fact, my Dad's ashes. I always heard horror stories about how some places just stick random ashes in and don't care much about who gets what. This place takes its job seriously.
Now that I have the Death Certificates I can start calling his life insurance people and credit cards and getting the paperwork started. I'm going to have to go delving into my father's papers sometime, probably this week, because there's some papers we don't have that we will need. But I'm not ready for that yet.
My Mom has been slowly getting better. She has been keeping herself busy and got her hair done and has gone shopping a few times. I didn't want to, but I told her that I had Dad. I knew it was too early for her, but I told her anyway. She seemed puzzled at first but then when it sank in what I was saying she just was destroyed all over again. It broke my heart and she just couldn't stop sobbing. I had to tell her sooner or later, but it still kills me to be the source of such pain for her. Syndee's taking this all pretty hard as well. She really cared for him and now it's her turn to feel helpless to do anything for me.
They gave us this tree seedling to bury in my Dad's name. I need to do that soon or it will go bad. My Mom doesn't want anything to do with it and I'm not sure where I can put it, since my lawn is only slightly bigger than the box my Dad's in. If anyone wants a nice tree planted let me know. It needs to be done soon I'm told.
I still can't believe he's gone. I feel like I can pick up the phone and call him, or that I can go to the hospital and go visit him. I can't get my mind around the idea that he's not here anymore. It sounds so stupid and you hear people say it all the time, but you don't really understand what they're saying until it happens to you. He was one of the three biggest people in my life, and he's gone. He was my rock that was always there for us. He'd do anything for us and he did. He was the best of us. My Mom's crazy and I'm a lazy fuckup, but he was always there, working hard and making sure everyone was taken care of.
And now he's gathering dust on my shelf. I'm so sorry Dad. You deserve better.
A very nice, dignified, respectful man came by and talked to me at length, explaining everything to me, but mostly he just brought my Dad back to me in a box. It was a lot smaller and lighter than I thought it would be. He weighed about 180, and even given the fact that he probably lost some weight towards the end, he had to be 160. Now he weighs less than a gallon of milk and would fit into a shoebox. Maybe burial would have been better, I dunno. We still haven't decided what we're ultimately going to do with the ashes. We're going to have a ceremony sometime when we're ready, but after that we still don't know. Arlington cemetary is apparently an option, since my Dad was a vet. My Mom may want to keep him closer to home as well. I just don't know. For now I have him.
I feel good about the place we chose. I trust them and there's a non-profit organization that acts as a watchdog to funeral homes and crematories that rated them very very highly. Even if they hadn't recommended them, I would be happy. They asked all the right questions. They wanted recent photos to help make sure there was no mixup at the morgue. They took serious care to keep the chain of custody intact so that I can feel secure that this is, in fact, my Dad's ashes. I always heard horror stories about how some places just stick random ashes in and don't care much about who gets what. This place takes its job seriously.
Now that I have the Death Certificates I can start calling his life insurance people and credit cards and getting the paperwork started. I'm going to have to go delving into my father's papers sometime, probably this week, because there's some papers we don't have that we will need. But I'm not ready for that yet.
My Mom has been slowly getting better. She has been keeping herself busy and got her hair done and has gone shopping a few times. I didn't want to, but I told her that I had Dad. I knew it was too early for her, but I told her anyway. She seemed puzzled at first but then when it sank in what I was saying she just was destroyed all over again. It broke my heart and she just couldn't stop sobbing. I had to tell her sooner or later, but it still kills me to be the source of such pain for her. Syndee's taking this all pretty hard as well. She really cared for him and now it's her turn to feel helpless to do anything for me.
They gave us this tree seedling to bury in my Dad's name. I need to do that soon or it will go bad. My Mom doesn't want anything to do with it and I'm not sure where I can put it, since my lawn is only slightly bigger than the box my Dad's in. If anyone wants a nice tree planted let me know. It needs to be done soon I'm told.
I still can't believe he's gone. I feel like I can pick up the phone and call him, or that I can go to the hospital and go visit him. I can't get my mind around the idea that he's not here anymore. It sounds so stupid and you hear people say it all the time, but you don't really understand what they're saying until it happens to you. He was one of the three biggest people in my life, and he's gone. He was my rock that was always there for us. He'd do anything for us and he did. He was the best of us. My Mom's crazy and I'm a lazy fuckup, but he was always there, working hard and making sure everyone was taken care of.
And now he's gathering dust on my shelf. I'm so sorry Dad. You deserve better.