A Los Angeles Lesbian: What A Weekend

Sunday, January 22, 2006

What A Weekend

Well, it is Sunday night... and I thought I would get a bit of blogging in before these Santa Ana winds huff and puff and blow me back into heteroville or something... ((OK, EW!)) Seriously, I just drove in from Pasadena and the winds were so strong that I had to white knuckle it to keep control of the car! Whew!

So, Friday was a month...Well, actually, tomorrow is "technically" a month...the 23rd. But Friday was 4 weeks if you count Fridays. And I have had a really weepy, sad, lonely, lost weekend. I knew it would be a rough one. ((My closest closest were all out of town and I was left completely to my own devices.)) ((Nice, huh? A month after my father passes and I am left here to rot all by myself here in my house...)) But I had no idea it would be this rough.

Thursday, I was at Pavillions and there was a table of 5 old guys hanging out together, eating lunch. My eyes filled up with tears. My dad did that with HIS friends... he was very social and loved to hang out the the guys. He had 2 friends who didn't like each other much, but liked my father. My father knew this and used to invite them both to lunch and then incite arguments between them -- then sit back and watch them go at it. He would always come home laughing, knowing he had been the cause of the mischief/drama that ensued.

Friday morning, I saw a fire truck. It was like a "cloak of sad" was thrown over me.

Friday night, I was nursing a Bud Light and watching "Ghost Whisperer" on CBS. (I highly recommend it...) The "ghost" this week was a little boy who had passed after being hit by train during a car accident. The little kid didn't understand that he was dead and once he did, he was worried that if he "moved on", that he would be all alone and no one would remember him. Anyway, once Jennifer Love Hewitt (JLH) convinced the mother that her intuitions were real, JLH told the mother that she had to tell the little boy it was OK to go. The mother was mortified and cried saying "I can't! I don't want him to go!" JLH convinced her and the mother told the kid "It's OK! Go ahead! You'll be safe! Your grandmother will be there waiting for you...I'll never forget you..." Once hearing that reassurance from his mother, the kid was ready to go and passed peacefully. The mother felt the presence of her son go away and she reacted with both joy and sadness that he had crossed over completely.

I was a wreck. Having just been in that situation a month ago, it was both comforting and scary to watch.

My dad knew he was passing for a good month- but hung on till a few things happened. ((Me arriving from CA is one of the main things.)) He was within a few hours of passing when we all gathered around him and started talking to him. I thanked him for being the greatest Dad in the world... thanked him for his love and patience and for our educations. My sister said "We'll take care of Mom" (to which he had a very pointed raising of the eyebrows). For several days prior to that, I remember making a POINT to not say "It's OK to go, Dad" for fear on some odd level that it would be my "fault" if he passed. (the reversion to being 5 years old was amazing that whole week!) Finally, the night before he died, I remember saying "it's OK"... I didn't say "It's OK to GO"... I just said "It's OK"...

A few hours later, he was gone.

THEN, today I was doing some work around the house and "Truth or Dare" was on. Madonna was honoring her father during a show and singing "Happy Birthday" to him...giving him all kinds of hugs and kisses and love... and I lost it again. I will never sing that to my Dad again. In person, anyway. But I was so lucky that I had made the choice to fly there on his birthday and get to sing to him one last time. That day, one of the last he could talk, I said "I love you Dad" to which he replied, as clear as a bell, "I love you, too." Wow.

Thank God for blogging... and therapy.

{{And as that Trader Joe's lady says... Thanks for listening.}}

Cheers.