k2daisy | Entries tagged with dad

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Made it through Friday, the 1-year anniversary of my dad dying. Lots of tears, lots of talking with my sister. My Dad's bestie, their Florida neighbor Joyce, sent me a very thoughtful and moving card. She misses him a lot too. I bet she has had a lot of idle time on her hands this year; she was always at their house or garage, talking to my dad or helping them out with a chore they couldn't quite do on their own. She helped them put together his office chair, put up and take down the hurricane cloth on the front door, carried in groceries, climbed up the ladder to the garage attic storage space, on and on. They were all so close she didn't even knock on the door -- they kept the lanai door next to her house unlocked so she could pop in and out. When I was there by myself all those months, she kept doing the same for me. We hung out a lot, walked the dogs together, talked about Mom and Dad, had dinner a number of times. She knew history and the mechanics of the house better than I did -- how to run the boat lift, when the pool girl came, how to turn off the pool heater, etc. She even spent 3 days helping me with the garage sale! Just a gem of a person. But once I left and the house was silent, there wasn't anything for her to do next door anymore. That had to have been a hard change to make for her. Much like it has been for me. The other neighbors have checked in with me too, and have said how strange it still is for them to not see Honey and Al at their house. But Joyce...I know Joyce misses them most of all.

She also sent a separate card to Molly, because she is going to be 5 in a couple of weeks. So sweet! Her very old dog Stella still keeps going to Molly's gate on their walks, waiting for someone to give her a treat. And Molly still runs to the gate here every morning, looking for her friends walking by (no one walks by here). But I have been brushing up on the lyrics to Barbra Streisand's "I'm Five" song, because that's the one my mom sang to us when we turned 5, and I can already hear her singing it to Molly. "I'm even more than four and a half, I'm fiiiiiiiiiive!"

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I got approved for Wegovy, finally, so will likely start that this week. I started WW but haven't really done it. So I think once Walgreens fills my scrip I will go to one of the local WW meetings and just kick it all off together.

I started PT too for my ankles, and that's getting me moving more.

It takes a while for the snowball to start rolling.

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But the big news is that I finally finished the 80 pages of back inventory data entry. All that is left is the most recent stuff, the xmas ornaments and most recent purchases from the last 2-3 weeks. My plan is to bang that out in the next few days. I am actually taking a break right now on it to type up this entry. So it's probably time to get back to that. Richard is napping but once he gets up, I will use the bed to fold the laundry. Gotta keep on pace with the chores as always.

Also, people are buying Christmas like CRAZY. Including me. I have way too many trees for my mantle. Culling will occur once I decorate -- AFTER Thanksgiving. Not before.

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UPDATE OMG: As oif 5pm, I am UP TO DATE ON MY DATA ENTRY. HALLELUJAH!!!

Now, to keep up with it as I process the new items already waiting here in my office. I am ready for this challenge!

The weekend has been very difficult. Lots of memories of my dad, and a lot of keening sobfests. I miss him so acutely right now.

One breakthrough I did have, though, is that I think I am finally mourning MY father. With all the interactions with my sisters since my parents died -- a lot more than we ever had in the past, we mostly communicated with my parents being the vector between us -- I have been learning that we each had very different relationships, perspectives, and images of our mutual father. My sister Alison always had a hard and hurtful relationship; she railed against him even as a kid, and said many times (as an adult) she hated him and only talked to them both so she could get money from them. But he made sure she was there before they started comfort measures, and they did talk and hug for a bit in the hospital. It was complicated between them, for sure. Then when he died and moreso after Mom did, she became obsessed with having his ashes in her possession. She used a lot of controlling language when she talked about them, and it was hard and uncomfortable to navigate through that period. Her single-mindedness about them ended up driving huge wedges in her relationships with my other sister and me.

It's mostly resolved now -- in that the ashes are with Kate and being prepared for a water burial in July -- but it was months and months of being immersed in Alison's relationship with Dad. And the only person I could really talk to you about it was Kate, and then I learned she too had her own relationship with Dad. She saw him as a wounded bird, someone who had something broken inside a long time ago that made him a figure of pity for her. All she ever talked about with me were his broken pieces: his drinking, his inner feeling of not being enough, his neglect/inability to be an engaged parent during our childhood.

But neither of those views are how I see Dad. I always admired and respected him. He was a role model to me all of his life. He was smart and funny and competitive and thoughtful. He made himself a success in his career, and he learned how to re-invent himself when it was over. He loved my mother every minute of their 57 years of marriage, even when she exasperated him to death. I loved spending time with him, a lot more than I think either of my sisters did. I liked learning from him, even if I teased him about it. He was curious about so many things; he read newspapers and magazines, and he loved engaging with everyone in his community and seeing it as a whole ecosystem. I loved, loved, loved playing games with him. I would give anything to play one last game of Rummikub with them both.

I feel like spending all those months mired in talking/hearing about Alison's and Kate's versions of Dad prevented me from mourning my own. So it's hitting me even harder now, seven months after he died. I want my Dad back. I don't want their versions in my head. I just want mine.

Mother of Re-Invention

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December 2025

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He's my dad too