Happy Birthday

So my birthday came and gone. It was completely uneventful. My sister and her family came out and we did some things around the house and ordered pizza for lunch. Then we went to Target and Cold Stone. Totally exciting, right?? But what's sad is that some certain people completely ignored it. No phone call, no e-mail, no birthday card. Just like it didn't even happen. And one of these people did the same after dad passed away. Nothing from them. How sad is that?? Now granted, I didn't want a big to-do for this birthday. But a simple "happy birthday" would have been nice.

I Miss You, Dad

I'm back in Minnesota getting ready for Dad's memorial service. And I'm totally hating this! I don't want to be remembering him, I want him to be here with me. I know that's a natural reaction. But I feel so empty. I miss my daily calls with him. I miss talking sports or books with him. I just miss knowing that he's there for me. And I hate knowing that I lied to him. I told him that it was okay to go, but it wasn't. He needed to hear that - we couldn't have him continue to hang on. But dad, don't be mad at me for that. I hated seeing you in so much pain, and not the way that you wanted to be. But forgive me for wanting you to always be in my life. It's strange being at your house, but you're not there. And I can't call you and talk about how exciting it was to watch my Hokies win the first game in the NCAA tournament at the last second. Do you know that I almost called, but then realized that you weren't there? And then after we lost that horrible game, I know what you would have said about it. Somehow you have to let me know that you're still watching my games with me.

Blog Challenge

10 Favorites
Color: Blue
Food: Macaroni & Cheese
Month: March
Song: “Badlands”
Movie: “The Sound of Music”
Sport: Hokie Football
Season: Fall
Day of the Week: Saturday
Ice Cream Flavor: Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough
Time of Day: After work is over

9 Currents
Mood: Sad
Clothes: Jeans and a sweater
Taste: Ice cream
Desktop: Standard stuff from the computer
Toenail Color: Natural
Time: 10:27 p.m.
Surroundings: My living room
Thoughts: I miss my dad
Wonderings: What is life like in Heaven

8 Firsts
Best Friend: Diane – lived across the street from me
Kiss: Some guy at the pool
Screen Name: tkleber
Pet: cat - OJ
Piercing: ears
Crush: Brad McKenzie – in first grade
Computer: Some old thing that I bought, but Steve got my parent’s credit card number to pay for it
Home Location: Woodland Hills, CA

7 Lasts
Cigarette: at Fast Eddie’s one night when I was mad at Surfer Boy
Drink: Vodka drink at the parent’s house
Kiss: Surfer Boy
Movie seen at the theater: “Breach”
Phone Call: Pat
Phone call made: Bonnie
CD played: “High School Musical”
Gift received: Hokie musical bottle opener

6 Have You Evers
Dated One Of Your Best Friends: Yes, in high school
Broken the Law: Yes, if skinny dipping counts
Been Arrested: No
Skinny Dipped: Yes
Been on TV: No
Kissed Someone You Didn't Know: Yes

5 Things
You've Eaten Today: Tacos
You've Done Today: Packed for a retreat
You Can Hear Right Now: “General Hospital” on TV
You Can't Live Without: My family
You Do When You're Bored: Read

4 places you've been today
Target
Giant
The mailbox
My basement

3 people you can tell anything to
My dad
Laura
Lisa

2 Choices
Black or White: Black
Hot or Cold: Hot

1 thing you wanna do before you die
Travel more

March 1 - The Day My Life Changed

This has been a completely sucky year. And it just keeps getting worse and worse. Last Wednesday, I got the call I had been dreading. The doctor's didn't think Dad had more than 24 hours left to live. So Laura and I flew back to MN. We got there before the big snow storm hit. We decided to stay at the rehab center just in case. The nurses at the center were wonderful. They brought in a cot for us, and a tray of food, coffee and juices. I stayed in the room all night. Laura was there for part of it, then she switched places with Bonnie. Joyce stayed out in the little sitting room. But we didn't really sleep much of the night. Around 4:00, dad has a bit of a hard time, and both Bonnie and I thought it was his time. But he was just having problems getting comfortable.

In the morning, we all got up, changed clothes and ate breakfast. His breathing was becoming more labored and shallow. His pulse was still strong, but fast. And his face looked sunken. His oxygen was low so they increased it. They came in to clean his room and we stepped out.

After about 15 minutes, they were done. Bonnie went back. Joyce went to get a soda. Laura headed back, but Gerri called, so she took the call in the hallway. I was finishing up a page in the magazine, then went in the room. Bonnie had gone over to Dad and was holding his hand when he took his last breath.

Even though we knew Dad's time was coming, it was still hard. He wasn't there anymore. His body was getting colder and colder. The nurses came in to straighten him up and make him more comfortable. They called Hospice. Hospice contacted the University of Minnesota's Medical School and made arrangements for Dad's body to be taken away, as he was donating it. We all said our goodbyes.

While we were waiting for the Hospice doctor to come in, we were talking about Dad and we wondered what he was now experiencing. All of a sudden he lights flickered. We made a comment about the lights, and they flickered again. We know they had to be him. The lights had never flickered before or afterwards. So that was Dad's way of letting us know that he made it there safely.

So now we have to plan the memorial. How hard is that to do. He wants 2 Benny Goodman songs - And the Angels Sing and Let's Dance. So now we have to find those. And we're going to have a bunch of photos of Dad (which he'll hate).

But I feel so empty inside. There is something missing in me, and that's Dad. I knew I would mis him, but I didn't realize that it would be this strong. I guess that says something about my relationship with my father, and how positive it was. Gosh, i will miss him so much. Football season will be hard - I won't have him around to talk about what happens. My birthday will be hard - he won't be calling me to wish me a happy birthday, or won't be picking out my birthday card. His anniversary is on Friday - and I can't wish him a happy anniversary. I can still tell Bonnie, though, which is helpful.

I know time heals all wounds. I have to hope that will come quickly. And that I get a sign that he is okay.

Dad, I love you. Thank you for everything you have done for me. I'm lucky that I got you as long as I did.

Here's what we're putting in the memorial announcement:

For Those I Love
For Those Who Love Me

When I am gone, release me, let me go . . .
I have so many things to see and do.
You mustn’t tie yourself to me with tears,
Be happy that we had so many years.
I gave you my love. You can only guess
How much you gave me in happiness.
I thank you for the love you each have shown.
But now it’s time I traveled on alone!
So grieve a while for me, if grieve you must.
Then let your grief be comforted by trust.
It’s only for a while that we must part.
So bless the memories that lie within your heart.
I won’t be far away, for life goes on.
So if you need me, call and I will come.
Though you can’t see me or touch me,
I’ll be near.
And if you listen with your hearts, you’ll hear
All of my love around you soft and clear.
And then, when you must come this way alone . . .
I’ll greet you with a smile and say “Welcome Home.”

Eugene Victor Kleber
b. 7/7/1920
d. 3/1/2007