9 December 2013: Monday ... Doug on the road ... preparing for visitation and a reception at home ... kids & Susan flying into Baltimore ... first full day without dad

I shoveled all the walkways and the driveway and cleared the good 4' of snow off the Honda and drove to Mealey Funeral Home, around the corner, after a call from Jim Keith, the director who arranged dad's funeral back in October during a family meeting in mom's room, that the cremation form needed my signature. Chick Mealey, owner, showed me around. They've been there since 1972 and I'd never, of course, been in the business. They were decorating for the Christmas season. Chick's son was putting up a tree. I also looked at the many cremain urns, such choice, brought a brochure home for Doug to look at.

Timeless Turquoise Raku Ceramic Cremation Urn

The body is at the crematory. Doug (who just phoned with a query about what road to take outside D.C. -- follow signs for 95 to NY and Baltimore we decided), driving up from Atlanta since early morning (had to stop and dose, much like dad did all those years ago in that cross-country drive home from Yellowstone -- shower at a truck stop and sleep in the car for a few hours, how he did it, I do not know), does not want to see dad's body and I don't either. It's just a body. It is not him. His life essence is gone but still present in a handkerchief, which, when mentioned to Susan in a phone call this morning, brought tears cascading down my cheeks. Those darn smells get me.

So much happening on this first day of the rest of my life without my father, living with my mother, who is so ill, but I just got off the phone (1:02 p.m.) with Susan, who has booked a flight, with Nick, from Charlotte to Baltimore for $240.00 on Friday night. They (Nick and Lindsay and their mom) will rent a car because Lindsay will also be flying into Baltimore from Nashville. Unfortunately, they'll only be able to stay two nights, leaving very early Sunday morning for an am flight back to Charlotte, I gather. I think Lindsay can stay later but I'm not sure, I thought she told me she'd be leaving for a Sunday pm flight. WE shall see, but nonetheless, the myriad pieces, these ones so important, are falling together.

Baltimore/Washington International Thurgood Marshall Airport

 At the close of this first day of the rest of my life without my father, I saw that Brenda Dillon, the "ol Southern gal filled with empathy" had texted me about the support of FB and just asked, simply: "How are you doing tonight?" (Wow, is that empathy or what and I wrote, after coming to bed and having slept, blissfully and soundly, through an overtime period and shootout between the Flyers and the Ottawa Senators, won by the Canadian team, 5-4, on his old bed, the one he died in just 28 hours earlier, unmade, just the mattress and head resting on one of the 4 pillows he would place carefully against the wall after making his bed):
Empathy ... big word, larger feeling, colossal effect. I'm making it through that first day. Just walked in his old slippers, fit snuggly, and dosed through a close hockey game on the mattress of his unmade bed in the room he died. I slept like a baby, which I was in his arms 57 years ago.

What am I thankful for today?

1. Doug being here safe and sound on a 13-hour trip begun in the early morning.
2. For talking to Susan and crying as I held dad's handkerchief in my hand and the working out her visit with our children this Saturday (they will fly into Baltimore on Friday evening and rent a car, perhaps together, I am unsure of that at present).
3. Friends like Lois Greef who visited with slippers for mom because her feet are swollen and hurting.
4. Professionals like the people at Mealey Funeral Home, in particular the president, Charles "Chick" Mealey, who had me sign the cremation form today and showed me various types of urns for dad's ashes.
5. For Bachetti's and the food they can put together for our planned reception at our home after visitation this Saturday at Mealey's at the intersection of Limestone and Milltown Roads.
6. For friends and family.
7. For the snug, perfect feel of dad's slippers on my feet and the opportunity to type this at the computer but missing his presence but knowing that he is all around me.
8. Good night dad and wherever you are, know that you are loved and missed by so many. Safe travels.
9. Just helped mom up from the floor (she called to me) where she'd fallen ten minutes earlier from her bed. It is after midnight and I am waking up as I type this after having gone comatose while watching the Flyers/Senators hockey game. She was face down and curled up like a wrestler on the mat and unable to get up. We worked to get her up and more secure on the bed. Turned up the heating pad and tucked the blanket up around her neck. She apologized and I said she didn't need to. I'm amazed it has not happened before. I had just brought her a cup of tapioca pudding which she'd eaten. Dad ate the vanilla pudding, probably the last thing he ate on this earth and he enjoyed it. Portable, small and tasty.