I am having a bit of a rough time. My Dad and my son’s birthdays are coming up in about 2 weeks. Dad’s is September 29, and Shane’s is just a few days later on October 3.
I should be shopping for gifts and cards. I should be worrying about getting everything shipped in time. Instead I sit here in my living room wondering how I am going to talk myself out of bed tomorrow. Today, I needed a bathroom, otherwise I am not sure I would have left the bed at all. I am having a really hard time motivating myself lately. I am about 2/3 done with a cross stitch quilt for my grandson, the last one to finish and all 4 grandbabies will have one under the Christmas tree. I have a bunch of food to get canned and frozen for winter from my garden, my floors need mopped, the dishes need done, and all I can do is sit here wishing I could turn back time a couple of months and spend a day with Shane and my Dad.
I remember the last day I spent with Shane. I was actually in town for my Dad’s funeral and preparing his estate. My husband and I spent the day, about a week before he died with Shane and his kids at the city park. His brother Vince came down for a while and played with us too. Shane’s kids were all over the place, and really liked having their Dad push them on the swings, or catch them at the slide. I could see Shane was in quite a bit of pain from his arthritis, but every time one of his kids asked him to come play with them, he was there. He could barely walk from the pain in his feet, but still took both kids to the potty on the other side of the park several times. Shane’s hands were all crippled up, but he still helped push his daughter’s baby doll in the swing next to her while still pushing her and her brother. We stayed at the park playing for so long, even the little ones were asking to leave.
Later that day, Shane, both his kids, my daughter Kiersten, her son, and my son Vince along with his son, my son-in-law Derrick, and my daughter-in-law Kendra all went with my husband and I to a local pizza buffet restaurant for dinner. We were a bit loud, and rowdy. We probably irritated every other customer in the restaurant, but we had a good time.
Living so far away, I relied on phone calls with my Dad. I have tried to call my Dad several times since he passed. Dad always answered the phone. Even when I just had a simple question, we ended up bullshitting for a couple of hours every time I called. I would call to ask how long to water bath can a jar of jelly, and we would end up still talking 3 hours later. I miss those marathon conversations with him. I always knew no matter what, he was there.
I want them back. Maybe that is a bit selfish, I don’t know. Both Dad and Shane had some health problems, and spent quite a bit of time in pain. I just want them back. I want my grandkids to grow up with their Daddy. I want them to know their Great Grandpa. I wasn’t ready for them to be gone. Not yet, they were too young to die. There is more for them to do! I just want to wake up tomorrow and have it all been a bad dream!