Death & Logistics

I’ve had this title in my head for a few days now. Its been exactly 8 days since my father passed away and my life has been full of the logistics of someone dying- all the steps, there for’s, here to’s, and this that and the other thing.

Dad died on a friday, saturday my brothers and sister and I got up to speed on funerals 101, then went right into production of a wake, the mental wranglement of would Mom do this, would she do that, and so on. Then prayer, readings selection, assignment of roles, and eulogy writing.

The oldest, Tom, took on the heart of the mass readings, reflecting on which prayers and readings reflected Dad best. Brother Paul would read one as as well and he’s basically head of the neutral zone, assigned executor of my father’s wishes. Chris took on program construction for the mass, and organizer of the music. Pats and I were assigned the Eulogy. I wrote the first pass and Pats added her flare. My brother Matt was with us in spirit, sadly he could not make the days that would come due to winter storms.

3 days after my father died, we had the “viewing” or calling, etc, basically folks come see him. In his will he wanted the cheapest box possible, but we splurged and got him some decent wood.

Looking at caskets is a bit like looking at cars, do you want the trim, the fine edges, the chrome knobs, gold flare. My Dad wanted a pine box outa the movies, like classic westerns. But pine boxes aren’t exactly offered.

Next up Dad wanted to be dressed as casually as possible but we put him in a blazer at least. Sure he wanted beach attire but we figured mom would fester over that. He was casual but church ready.

The open casket viewing was tough at first. Mom seeing him caused all the brothers to crumble. When Mom is strong we’re good, when Mom is sad, we’re basically flying around the planet to reverse time.

The Rockwells will move any mountain, stop time, destroy all existence for their Mom.

But she is strong. She not only saw Dad with strength, she stayed and allowed all those visiting to pay their respects to Dad, pay them to her as well.

With the viewing done we went on to the main event, the mass and the burial.

The mass went well. It was good to see many show, many close to Dad come for his mass. I gave the eulogy with my sister and did the pallbearer dance, which was harder than I thought, not weight wise but weight on the soul.

The procession to the cemetery followed. The burial was hard.

After the burial we had a reception at my brothers house. We told great stories and watched a dvd reel I made of our father, some 188 photos from days past. It was good but its surprisingly difficult to make a dvd these days. iPhoto, iDVD, utter crap.

On the 7 day of the affair I got time to process what happened. My Dad died. Despite his relatively strong heart, good lungs, etc, he could not beat the aspiration issue that plagued him.

When someone goes on hospice its a big deal, it means they have weeks left to live. I continue to question much of the events leading up to his death along with toss as much side, wasted time guilt upon myself as well. He was 86 after all, hardly a spring chicken.

I know my Dad loved me, he told me every day. I love him as well and will work hard to continue to make him proud. But the grieving, its difficult. I’ve been jotting down alot of notes and thoughts lately, it keeps me sane so i do it.

Losing my Dad is a bit like returning a book to the library you didn’t take the time to finish. I miss that book. Some chapters I re-read often, others I skimmed thru, some I didn’t read at all. But now the book is due, and it must go back. And I can’t take it out of the library again, its gone. I have much of the story on my Father but not all of it. Parts will remain in speculation, as if I wondered what the author was thinking- what my Father was thinking. Losing that book, sucks. -DJR