Father's Day Came Early

One damn thing after another.

Nearly 40 years ago, and my father moved into the house I grew up in, and then all the packing was done, he said he would be buried from his house. He was never going to move again. Period.

He got his wish.

On Saturday night, he overdosed on his insulin…

Again.

For the last time.

EMTs arrived within minutes of being called and pronounced around 7/8 o'clock. Coroner picked up the body at 1:30am, left at 2am.

On Sunday, my wife Vanessa and I made it to 9am mass, coming in on the final notes of the procession. And then we cried through closing song “On Angels Wings.”

At 11:30am, my father's friend the funeral director showed up & walked us through the paperwork checklist. We’d get a dozen death certificates. He would be cremated—because we couldn’t fulfill his wish of “just put me in a garbage bag by the curb.” We’d get enough mass cards to bookmark our reading for decades.

The cost of the funeral will be only slightly less than moving us across the country with two tons of books. I guess I got a good deal on the move...or the funeral.

Viewing will be this weekend. Directly contact me for details. We will cremate him after, then have the funeral mass (it takes a week to get cremains). Funeral is TBA.

Since we can't reach most of the relevant people (life insurance et al) on Sunday, we spent Sunday going through clothing. His idea of frugal meant “this shirt is stained... time to wear it backwards.” So we tossed a LOT. Why do people save this part for last?

Though this meme hit a little too hard today.

Today… Before he died, my father ordered more books. They arrived this afternoon.

We’re keeping busy. We have a check list. We found something colorful to dress him in. It's both … shabby enough to be burned, but still good enough that he would still wear it to work. It’s very him.

Right now, the only problem of moving and burying at the same time is going through what's been packed to find something important -- in particular, the deed to a prepaid cemetery plot that we've had for years. Can't find it.

We found plenty of photos for the funeral, and most of the paperwork.

So progress is happening.

I find myself crying during the mail, as I sort through every piece of begging mail for charities my father gave through, and many he didn't. I cry at the crap he ordered coming in. I cry at completely random times for idiotic reasons.

So, it’s been a day.

Again, if you want to attend the viewing, DM me for details.

I know in terms of having a blog and running an Indy business, I should end on a call to action. But “My dad’s dead, please buy my books” is the tackiest possible thing I can think of.

Be well and God bless.