I always imagined when Dad died life would kinda stand still.
Okay, that's not true. I never really imagined Dad dying. Of course, I didn't think Dad would live forever...but you know what I mean.
I think.
I hope.
Anyway, the morning after Dad died I was a little surprised that I still needed to wake up, make breakfast, and take Lily to school. I just kinda thought I'd curl up in the fetal position and stay that way...well...forever...or a little longer.
Don't get me wrong, Tony was SUPER supportive. It's just that there's this certain little 5 year old who still expected her mother to be...well...her mother. The nerve!
Anyway, the morning after Dad died my little sweetie had a few things she wanted to talk to me about. Lily let me know - in no uncertain terms - that if I was going to keep her at school for lunch I was *expected* to pack her a lunch.
I assured Lily that when I dropped her off at school I didn't know that I wouldn't be picking her up that afternoon and if I had known I would certainly have packed her a lunch.
Of course, the little turkey didn't tell me that the school arranged for her to have Chick-fil-a for lunch that day and that she (and all the other kids) thought that that was incredibly cool!!!
Oh, and Lily also let me know if I wasn't going to pick her up from school in the afternoon I was to let her know in the morning because she didn't like not knowing who would be picking her up.
Again, I assured Lily when I dropped her off at school that morning that I didn't know I wouldn't be picking her up that afternoon. You know that little turkey didn't tell me that she had a BLAST at Ms. Tara's and she and J thoroughly enjoyed the fact that not only did J pick Lily up from school in J's mom's car, but that they also got to have dinner together. It really is all about life's simple pleasures.
In some weird way I love that the ABSOLUTE worst day in my life was actually a GREAT day in Lily's life.
I know I've been pretty absent around here over the last 6 weeks. I do want this to be Lily's "Baby Book" or I guess more like "Lily's Growing Up Book" so I am going to try and fill in some of the blanks.
During the last two weekends before Dad died not only did we celebrate Ryan and Clare's wedding, we also celebrated Dad, Don, and my birthdays and attended the Irish Festival. We had a wonderful time celebrating both and now these memories are added to a long list of memories I will always treasure!
It's hard to believe that the picture above was taken just two days before Dad died. I will be forever grateful that Mary Catherine convinced me to get from behind the camera and get in the shot!
Don't worry. This isn't going to be another sad, maudlin post about how much I miss Dad. It's going to be a quick before and after post.
On the left is Lily after Christmas dinner at Patti's.
On the right is Lily before bed at our house.
Who knew brushing teeth was a contact sport?!?
I'm embarrassed to admit that one of my Christmas wishes came true!
That tooth had been hanging on by a thread for over a week. If there is anything I dislike more than ticks it's loose teeth. Oh, you didn't know I positively loathe ticks? Well, that's a post for another time!
Of course, Lily still has a mouth full of other loose teeth! If some of Lily's permanent teeth don't start coming in soon the poor thing is going to have to gum all of her food!
All I want for Christmas is my one front tooth...and some other permanent teeth, all I want for Christmas is my one front tooth and some other permanent teeth...
I will be the first to admit I have taken Dad's death really, really hard. Most days the thought of curling up and hiding under the covers holds an undeniable appeal. There's just one small problem...um...who actually isn't so small anymore!
When you're lucky enough to share your life with this crazy kid you can't help but find joy every day!
After Dad was extubated we all came back into his room. We were all pretty quiet and I think it's safe to say more than a little bit nervous. Dad very quickly set the tone in the room by saying, "Somebody get me a Smithwicks!”
Talk about easing the tension. We all had a good laugh...including Dad! Dad's sweet doctor told us he wouldn't mind a bit if someone wanted to go out and bring Dad back a beer. Dad had to assure the doctor he was only teasing!
We then all had time to talk with Dad. I'm sure I don't remember everything Dad said, but I do remember just being so happy to hear his beautiful voice.
Although I'm quite certain there wasn't a person in that room who didn't want to cry and beg Dad not to go it was pretty much impossible to do this with Dad happily chatting and cracking jokes.
I think the doctors were convinced that Dad was going to have some issues with anxiety once he was extubated. There were several syringes of some rather heavy hitting drugs sitting right on the table next to Dad. Dad didn't need them, but I think a few of us in the room sure could've used them!
Dad shared with us how he had started not feeling well around 3:00 am and he had gotten up and went out to the living room. Dad waited until the newspaper had been delivered and one of his neighbors had left for work before he called 911. Dad didn't say this exactly, but I got the distinct impression Dad didn't want to call 911 "too early."
Dad told us that we didn't have to worry because he had had a doctor with him the entire time. When we questioned Dad about this he shared that the Pet Psychiatrist who lives across the street..."who lets her animals out to take a whiz at all hours of the night"...had come over as soon as the ambulance arrived. We all had a good laugh about that and then gave Dad a hard time about why he knew when his neighbors let their animals out to "take a whiz"!
Dad assured us that the paramedics and the doctors at Howard County had taken wonderful care of him. Dad again apologized for not calling us after he had called 911, but he didn't know that they would keep his line open.
In the time that we had with Dad we talked about everything and nothing. We cried some...prayed some...and laughed quite a bit.
Speaking of praying, at one point when Dad was resting we were all standing around his bed praying and he opened his eyes and said, "Now, that's enough of that!" Again, that got quite a laugh.
Dad had all kind of monitors hooked to him. The nurses tried to expand the parameters that would cause the monitors to alarm, but occasionally the alarms would still sound. All of us in the room would get a little panicky when that happened, but not Dad. Nope. When the alarms would sound Dad would pretend to answer his cell phone!
I have no idea how Dad was able to keep his sense of humor when he knew his death was imminent...but he did...and that was such a blessing! Don't get me wrong, there were plenty of tears shed by everyone...including Dad...but there was also plenty of laughter. Again, as Mary Beth said it truly was the Best Worst Day.
Dad wanted to know where and what all his grandkids were doing. He was concerned that I needed to leave to get Lily from school...and what about Beanie? If Dave and Patti were at the hospital what was Beanie doing?
Dad didn't want us to bother the kids that were in school because they should be focusing on their studies.
When Clare and Ryan walked in Dad's room you could see Dad got a little upset. Then we realized it was because Dad thought they had cut their honeymoon short. When Dad found out that Ryan and Clare had gotten home (as scheduled) the night before all was well with his world again.
Dad shook hands and chatted with James and then remembered he owed James some back pay for a couple of days James had worked for him. James assured Dad Dad that he didn't owe him anything, but Dad wanted to make sure we remembered to pay him. I tell you that man was a funny little squirrel.
Dad was also concerned when Katie arrived because he knew she had an exam that day. After Katie told Dad Dad that she had taken the exam before leaving school Dad Dad let her stay ;-).
Dad talked to Sadie on the telephone from Montana. It must have been very confusing for Sadie because Dad sounded great! Dad was sweet with Sadie on the phone and told her to stay in school and get good grades. He also told her not to come home for his funeral because her studies were more important. Did I mention what a funny man he was?!?
As more of us gathered in Dad's hospital room Dad looked around and asked us how many cars we had driven to the hospital. Dad was worried about how much it was going to cost all of us for parking! That sweet thing wanted us to go to the Parking Office and get discounted parking coupons...and he wanted us to take the money from his wallet to pay for them!!!
Honestly. The man is only hours away from dying and he is worrying about how much we are going to pay to park and he wants to be sure we take out his recycling?!?! When those are the types of things you are worried about on your deathbed I think it's a sign of a life well lived!
Dad was so much himself it was almost easy to believe that what the doctor had told us was wrong. Heartbreakingly, there began to be signs that the balloon pump that was in Dad's heart was failing.
The doctor came in and talked to Dad and let him know that the balloon pump was not going to be able to sustain him much longer and that when Dad was ready, they would have to remove the pump.
Dad shook the doctor's hand and thanked him for keeping him alive long enough for his family to get to the hospital. Needless to say, I don't think that is what the doctor expected! The doctor's eyes filled with tears and the doctor told Dad it had been his privilege to take care of Dad and that he had been blessed by doing so. Needless to say...that's not what Dad...or we...expected to hear!!!
After the doctor left the room Dad asked us when we thought would be a good time to remove the pump. Seriously, Dad???? Um, how about never??? Maybe 20 years from now??? How could there possibly ever be a good time???
When we asked Dad when he thought he'd be ready Dad shrugged his shoulders. It was a gesture he did many times throughout that day. It seemed to say, "What are you gonna do??" That gesture, coupled with Dad's sweet facial expression, was so like Grandmom Waters it was amazing.
Honestly, I don't remember exactly when Dad decided he was ready. I know several times throughout the day Dad asked what time it was. I'm not sure if Dad had a specific time in mind or not.
Oddly, the doctor that had inserted the pump at Howard County in the morning was now at Hopkins in the afternoon and would be removing the same pump he had inserted that morning. I'm sure doctors are faced with these types of situations daily, but I couldn't help feeling how strange it must've been for the doctor to rush to insert the pump in the morning to save Dad's life and then to turn around and remove it to end Dad's life.
When Dad was ready for the doctors to remove the pump each of us spoke to him briefly and then left the room. Before Patti left she said to Dad, "Dad, promise me you won't go anywhere until I get back." Dad told Patti that she didn't want to go where he was going next. When Patti assured Dad that she REALLY, REALLY did want to go where he was going Dad said in the most deadpan voice, "You want to go to the morgue????"
I know that it's gallows humor, but it is amazing to me how many times Dad used humor that day to help ease the tension and sadness in the room. He was an amazing father and truly parented us until his very last breath. When I think about how differently those hours could've gone I realize what a tremendous gift Dad and God gave us.
The pump removal procedure took a lot longer than I anticipated and I was so afraid that Dad had died with none of us in the room.
When we came back into the room it was obvious that Dad had changed dramatically. It was more difficult for him to breath and he was sweating profusely. Dad asked for some ice chips and some morphine and then he was quiet.
Dad was no longer able to speak to us, but we spoke to him. We played Irish music, told funny stories, prayed, cried, and laughed.
Don left the room to call his children to tell them about Dad. When Don came back in the room he gave Dad kisses from Maggie and Charlie and told Dad how much they loved him. At that moment, Don's cell phone rang. It was Maggie. She wanted to talk to her Dad Dad. Unfortunately, Dad wasn't able to speak to Maggie, but I believe he heard every word she said. After Maggie finished talking to Dad Dad she told him she loved him and then Don took the phone away from Dad's ear. It was literally at that moment that Dad went to be with God and Mom.
Dad's transition from this world to the next was beautiful. I do not believe that Dad wanted to die. He loved life...he loved his life. However, when Dad knew his death was inevitable he handled it like he handled everything in his life - with love, with humor, and with grace.
In a world where it seems there are fewer and fewer people to emulate Dad provided everyone who knew him with a role model worth looking up to - right up until the moment of his last breath.
For me, Dad was larger than life. The hole in my heart his death has left behind is gaping. As I struggle to adjust to life without Dad's earthly presence, I am trying to be mindful of the beautiful example he set throughout his life. I know exactly what Dad expects me to do - now I just need to figure out how to do it.
I've really debated about whether or not I want to write about the day that Dad died.
I'm afraid if I try to put that incredibly emotional and beautiful experience into words I'll cheapen it somehow. The last thing I want to do is make it seem like a made for television movie. The problem is as I try to compile my thoughts and memories of that day...I can hardly believe it myself...and I was there.
This may seem macabre, but I sincerely wish we had videotaped that day. If we had I can assure you there would be a whole lot less non-believers in the world!
I will be the first to admit my faith is often less than rock solid. Honestly, I struggle with the fact there are wars, famine, hunger, homelessness, and countless other atrocities in a world where I witnessed first hand an absolute abundance of God's amazing grace.
I can't explain or justify it. All I know is what I witnessed. I believe it was miraculous. Truly.
Let me try and start at the beginning.
Mary Beth called me right after I had dropped Lily off at school. From the tone of Mary Beth's voice, I knew immediately that something was terribly wrong.
Mary Beth told me that Dad had had a heart attack and was being airlifted from Howard County General to Johns Hopkins Hospital. Mary Beth, Patti, and I met at Mary Beth's house and drove to JHH. Don and Mary Catherine drove separately. We arrived at the hospital within minutes of each other.
A doctor met with us immediately and told us we were facing "an end of life scenario". Dad had had a massive heart attack and was currently on a ventilator and a balloon heart pump. In light of Dad's mesothelioma, he was not a surgical candidate. The doctor explained that if Dad survived bypass surgery...which the doctor thought was doubtful...Dad would not have time to fully recover from the surgery before the mesothelioma would take his life. It truly was a lose/lose proposition.
At this point Dad was not responsive and the doctor talked to us about turning off Dad's life support when we were ready. We all agreed that was the right thing to do and we went into Dad's room to spend some time with him. Much to everyone's surprise, not long after we were in the room Dad opened one eye...looked around the room...and then opened his other beautiful blue eye.
It was immediately obvious that Dad was very much present. We explained to Dad where he was and what had happened.
Dad began to gesture to us almost immediately and quickly explained (through gestures) that he was sorry he hadn't called us. He gestured that he had called 911 and then they kept his phone line open and we wasn't able to make additional phone calls.
The doctor came in and very compassionately explained to Dad what had happened and that they really weren't going to be able to help him. Via plenty of thumbs up Dad tried to assure the doctor that he was feeling really good. The doctor explained to Dad that the reason he was feeling so good is because there were machines doing all the hard work for him and those machines were not going to be able to carry the load much longer.
It was obvious that what the doctor was trying to tell Dad was not really sinking in. At this point Mary Beth stepped in. Mary Beth lovingly put her hands on Dad's face, looked him in the eye, and told Dad this would be the day that he saw God. At first Dad shook his head "No", but then you could almost see this wave of acceptance come over Dad. It was so beautiful. Truly indescribable.
Shortly after the doctor spoke to Dad we asked a priest to come in. After the priest anointed Dad, Dad very clearly mouthed, "Good Man." The priest got quite a kick out of that.
The priest then gave all of us 4 things to do as our "homework". To be honest, I don't remember each of the 4 things exactly...but basically...he asked us to tell Dad we loved him, forgive Dad for any grudges we might be harboring, share happy memories, and give Dad permission to go.
We did our best to do our "homework", but Dad had other ideas.
If I remember correctly, it was just about then that the craziest game of Cardiac Care Unit Charades began. Dad had A LOT of things he wanted us to know. For several hours Dad gestured and wrote notes to us. I can't remember everything that transpired in the next few hours, but here are a few of the things Dad shared with us:
Dad told us what lottery numbers he wanted us to play - straight and boxed.
Dad shared with us that it was better to die this way because it would be fast and the mesothelioma would take longer.
Don and Dad reminisced about when Don was little and Dad would take him on jobs with him in Western Md. Dad wrote notes about where they would have lunch, stop for supplies, spend the night, and more.
Dad wanted to make sure we didn't forget to put out the recycling. (No, I'm not kidding.)
Dad gave us explicit instructions for a donation he wanted to make and what the note that accompanied the donation should say.
Dad told us how much money his company was owed and from what customers. Dad also told us what invoices he had outstanding to pay.
Dad gave us specific instructions for the family picnic including how many hamburgers to make and what size they should be, how many hot dogs (regular and polish), how much beer and to remember to buy some O'Douls for Uncle Bernie.
Dad told us if he looked good keep the casket open...if not - close it.
Oh, and Dad wanted to wear the purple tie he had worn to Clare and Ryan's wedding.
Dad wanted to wear his AOH Division 5 sash and he wanted an American flag on his casket.
Dad told us what funeral home he wanted to use if we weren't too keen on his other ideas of either being viewed at his house or the attractive alternative of shoving a ham bone someplace unmentionable and letting a pack of hungry dogs take care of the rest.
Dad told us what hymns he wanted sung at his funeral. Trust me Dad gesturing "On Eagles Wings" was really priceless.
Dad told us he wanted a big, Big, BIG, party after his funeral and he wanted us to have A LOT of homemade Irish Cream. Dad also gestured that we didn't need to buy any Jameson because he had 3 bottles of it at home.
This crazy game of charades and note writing went on for several hours. There were moments of incredible frustration when we couldn't understand Dad and there were moments of crazy, hysterical laughter.
Throughout the day Dad's hospital roomed filled with people who loved him and whom he loved. All of Dad's son-in-laws were there and all of Mary Beth and Ed's children...including the newest member of the family.
Clare assumed a new role that day - one I'm sure she never expected - that of Family Scribe. Clare took copious notes on everything Dad shared with us.
At some point the doctor came in and told Dad that they could try and extubate him and he might be able to talk with us. Dad definitely wanted to try. The doctor warned Dad that it would be difficult and there would be lots of coughing, gagging, etc. The doctor assured Dad that they would be there to keep him comfortable.
Before they came in to extubate Dad he let us know through gestures that he wanted all of us...except Mary Beth...to leave the room. Apparently, Dad was afraid that Patti and I might faint. Unfortunately, I completely misunderstood what Dad was gesturing and thought he wanted us to bow before we left the room.
Oh, if you could've seen the expression on Dad's face. Of course, I realize now how completely absurd it is to think Dad wanted us to bow before we left the room...but I wasn't at my best...and I'm quite certain Dad thought I had completely lost my mind!! By the way, Dad was right. I had completely lost my mind...and a huge part of my heart.
I wasn't in the room when Dad was extubated, but instead of the difficult, coughing, gagging scenario the doctor anticipated Dad handled it effortlessly. Mary Beth told us the first thing Dad said was, "Piece of cake!"
I'll share more about what Dad said when he could speak and more about the rest of the beautiful time we shared together in another post.
As I still struggle to put words to my thoughts and feelings I wanted to share with you the eulogy Patti wrote for Dad.
Patti, thank you for letting me share your eulogy here. But, more importantly, thank you for standing in front of a church filled with people and beautifully sharing just how much Dad meant to each of us.
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During Dad's brief illness there have been so many lovely tributes written about him on his CaringBridge site, on Facebook, and he received many cards and letters from people wanting to thank him for his positive influence. So many kind words were spoken to and about him.
My family thanks you for all of them and we want you to know that each and every one of you was exactly right. He was that kind, that funny and loving, he was that special.
He was a simple man in the most beautiful sense of the word. He found total satisfaction in his life. He never wanted for anything. He worked hard, but not so he could have the biggest house, or the fanciest car - heck it practically took an Act of Congress to get him to buy a new suit! He worked hard for us, his family. Ultimately, that dedication and hard work would lead to the disease of Mesothelioma. Dad truly took the diagnosis as a badge of honor.
In the construction industry known for gruff, rough around the edges characters, Dad stood out. He was quick with a joke or a helping hand. He never treated anyone as if they were beneath him and in his work life, like his personal life, he was respected and loved.
Given the choice to spend a day anyway he wanted, Dad would have picked a warm sunny day, steamed crabs, a cold beer, a winning Orioles game on the radio, his wife and children at the picnic table and his grandkids playing in the back yard.
My father was a bit of a Renaissance man. He participated fully in the raising of his children long before it was the norm. He was always in charge of Bath Time and on cold winter mornings he would throw our clothes in the dryer so that when we got dressed for school we would be warm. At the end of the day we kids would wait for him at the top of the neighborhood and he would pick us up in the back of his truck, drive us home, and he would play with us in the back yard after coming home from a long day’s work.
We were raised in a house with few rules. But three that were engrained in us by our father - first (and most importantly) never, ever…no matter what…disrespect his wife. Those beautiful sparkling Irish eyes could turn steel cold in a flash if we were being rude to Mom.
I wish I could find the right words to express the way my dad felt about my mother. It was so far beyond "for richer or poor”, so much deeper than “in sickness and in health". In fact, I'm pretty sure the only wedding vow my father didn't honor was "until death do us part".
Yes, Mom and Dad's relationship changed on Sept 5, 2002, but it surely hadn't ended. Dad started each day of the past 9 years by having coffee with my mom. He would go to the 7-11, grab a newspaper and a cup of coffee, and head to the cemetery. If the weather was bad, Dad would say, "Poor old Mommy, she only got a drive-by today."
Dad brought her fresh flowers at least once a week, always being sure to put a few of those flowers on the grave site of a baby girl Dad had never met.
When Dad travelled, or on the few rare occasions he was sick, we kids would always scramble at the last minute, "Did someone put fresh flowers at the cemetery?"
Clare had the best idea, so I stopped at Safeway this morning and brought flowers so that on Dad’s final trip to the cemetery, he’d have flowers for Mom.
Dad always modeled the behavior he wanted from his children. I think more than trying to practice what he preached - it was just who Dad was. He was always respectful of his mother - our grandmother. We grew up watching him taking her shopping, to the bank, having dinner with her at least once a week and speaking to her every night. And let’s be honest, we kids enjoyed the fact that if Dad even thought about stepping out of line, my grandmother was the only person who could put him right back into place with a simple "Donald, stop being such a jackass".
Second rule, there was never a good excuse to miss dinner time. We were welcome to have friends join us at the table, but Dad expected us to be there. And if any of you ever shared a meal with us, you know it wasn't a "Beaver Cleaver" type of dinner time. We weren't neatly dressed. The children didn't eat in silence while the husband and wife discussed his day over a martini. Nope, not our house - it was loud and sometimes chaotic, always funny and filled with stories of the day. Dad wanted to know how each of us was doing in school, he wanted to know how we had spent our afternoon, and he wanted to hear the latest jokes and be kept up to date on all the gossip.
The third rule was more a way of life than a rule - Family First. And Dad’s idea of family just wasn't his wife and four kids. It was better defined as anyone whom he loved or who loved either him, his wife, his four kids or his grandchildren. He worried about, prayed for, and included in his "family" so many people. That doesn't mean he always remembered your name - don't be offended. He didn’t always remember mine. We used to call it, “The Litany of the Saints.” Dad would look at one of his children and run down the list of names until he got it right. So for me, he would start with: Mom, Mary Beth, Don, T.J., Doodles (yes, the family dog) and finally come around to my name.
To his grandchildren, I know to you it was second nature to look up and see your grandfather at your track meet, your ball game, your cheerleading competition, your play, or your dance recital. If it mattered to you, it mattered to Dad Dad.
Each of you has been provided with a beautiful example of God’s love on Earth. A gentle giant, a man who truly let his actions speak louder than his words. And his selfless actions to the very end of his earthly existence, I hope, will forever provide you a role model worth emulating.
Grandsons - you've seen the perfect example of how to be a husband and a father. Granddaughters - he set the bar high, but settle for nothing less.
Even when it came to his best friend, Dad kept in the family. My dad's best friend is Uncle Jack. We kids want to thank you, Uncle Jack, for being such a good friend to Dad. You were his greatest comfort when Mom died. He was very much lost without her and you helped him navigate his way back to the land of the living. And whether it was traveling to Ireland, having lunch at the Smokehouse, attending funerals (sometimes even accidently the funeral of people you didn't even know) or grabbing a pint at one of the local Irish establishments Dad loved spending time with you. I know by now must of you have heard the story of when Dad was first diagnosed with cancer, the doctor walked in placed his hands on top of Dad’s and said, "Mr. Waters, you have cancer".
Dad responded with "Very good".
"No, Mr. Waters you DO have cancer"
"Very Good."
T.J. had to interrupt to interpret - "very good" in dad speak means – “Ok. It is what it is; we can't change it so let’s deal with it the best way possible and move forward".
Dad I failed a test, I wrecked the car, I'm getting divorced..."very good". Never an ounce of judgment. I'm not saying Dad was proud of every decision his kids made, but he was ALWAYS proud of his children. He was the very best at separating the deed from the doer. After the doctors left the room that day Dad said to me, "I have lived twice as long as my brother, Joe. He never got to see his kids graduate from high school. I got to see all of my children graduate high school, get married, have children of their own. Hell, I got to see several grandkids graduate high school, some college and God willing, I will see one get married. I am a lucky man and anyway, I miss your mom." And I know he truly believed that. He was blessed. And just 14 days ago, Dad was honored to be at the wedding of his oldest grandchild. Besides the icing on the cake that Dad loved Clare so much, was the fact that all of his family was in the same place at the same time. Every child, in-law, grandchild (and lots of extended family) - all there together celebrating love.
What I wish for each of you is that at some time in your life, you can have a few moments with someone you love like we had with Dad that very last day. The doctors didn't expect that Dad would have a level of consciousness that would allow him to communicate with us. Clearly, they didn't know who was boss.
First, one eye peeked open, and when he looked around the room and saw all of his children, he knew it was safe to open both eyes.
The doctor, who was a wonderful man, spoke clearly to Dad and told him his prognosis. Whether it was Dad’s ears that couldn't hear the doctor, or if it was his heart, isn't completely clear to me. But my sister, Mary Beth, spoke to Dad. She spoke to him from her heart and in the most amazingly compassionate way conveyed to Dad that this was his last day. She let him know that we were all there; we were all going to be ok and that when he was ready, we would turn off life support and he could go home to Jesus and Mom.
However, Dad had a few messages left to convey. While still on a ventilator we played the most unusual game of charades. Dad was able to share with us some very important and meaningful things: • Next June we need to buy 100 hot dogs, 80 regular and 20 Polish. We needed 70 hamburgers about this big. So, if any of you thought that the McDonnell Family picnic would end here, I assure that you are wrong. So please mark your calendars for the 3rd Saturday in June. • He dictated that we should have bagpipes - thank you for being here. • He wanted an American flag on his casket, and his AOH sash on his chest (not the honorary grand marshal one, he didn't want to brag) • He wanted a party today...a big party with lots of Irish Cream - but we didn't need to go to the liquor store to buy the Irish whiskey, because he had 3 bottles under the bar. • He wanted his Grandchildren who were in college to stay in class and not miss school because of him. • He wasn't sure about an open or closed casket, it depended on how he looked. • He had a very unattractive option for his burial that involved a hambone, an unseemly location for that hambone, and a pack of hungry dogs.
While still intubated each of us in the room got a chance to speak with Dad, to look him in the eye and tell him just how wonderful he was. Another blessing in this family is that we don't wait until "it’s too late", we don't have "I wish he would have known". Dad knew every day how much we adored him, but there was something beautiful about getting to share those few hours with him.
When he was ready, he was extubated and for a short time, able to speak, he wanted us all in the same room. It took a minute or two to gather everyone around his bedside and when we were all there, silent, waiting for his words of wisdom he said...
“Somebody get me a Smithwicks!”
We all laughed and then he composed himself and drew a breath and said, "Thank you".
Really Dad???
We are the ones who need to thank you. We are blessed to have been in your family. We are grateful for every lesson you taught us and we will miss you every day of our lives.
My sister said it best, and we've each said it a thousand times since then, Tuesday was the best worst day of our lives. As he did throughout our lives, Dad made this transition as easy as he could for us. He spent his last few hours making sure that we were okay, thanking us, making us laugh, and as always being a living example of faith. I've never seen such grace. I am eternally grateful to God for the honor of being his daughter.
Thank you for being here today, and don't forget - after the interment – there’s gonna be a party - a big, big, big party with lots of Irish Cream and Dad expects you all to be there. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mary Beth summed up the day Dad died beautifully. She said it was the "Best worst day" we ever had. I think that describes November 15, 2011 perfectly.
Although I'm certain my heart literally broke that day I also know we were given such a tremendous gift. The time we were able to share with Dad is something I will always treasure.
I do not want this blog to become my grief journal, but there are so many things I want I need to write about. Things I don't ever want to forget...things that are weighing so heavy on my heart...and also moments of laughter and incredible joy.
The morning after Ryan and Clare's wedding John and Malissa, Clare's parents, invited all of us to brunch.
I have to be honest...I wasn't so sure about brunch. Tony and I had been out late the night before "partying". We just aren't used to dancing until 1:00 am anymore. What can I say??? We're old like that!
Oh, and maybe I should mention that when we got back to our hotel room Sleeping Beauty was NOT sleeping. Yes, that's right. It was after 1:00 am and Lily was still bright-eyed and bushy tailed. In fact, when Tony and I opened the hotel room door we were greeted with an all too familiar voice saying, "Hell-ooooooo!" Yikes!
Poor, poor Rosie - our sweet babysitter. Not only did Lily keep her up extremely late she also had sat for her SAT's Saturday morning!!!
Thankfully, Rosie loves Lily! Rosie assured us that she and Lily had had a great time and that Lily actually did "try" to fall asleep a few times, but just had "too much to think about" to actually fall asleep.
Speaking of Rosie, it turns out that Lily wasn't all that interested in staying at Clare and Ryan's reception. I thought we'd have to take her out of there kicking and screaming ;-). Nope. Lily was far more interested in heading back to the hotel and ordering Room Service with Rosie! Go figure!!
Thankfully, Lily was asleep within minutes of Tony and I returning to the hotel room and her mom and dad weren't far behind her!
The next morning Lily hopped out of bed like the Energizer Bunny. I can't say the same for her mother and father! It only took me setting one foot on the ground to remember why I NEVER wear high heels. Oy! I practically had to crawl to brunch!!
Crawling would have been so worth it! Brunch was SO nice. It was great to have the opportunity to catch up with people we had missed the night before and to just relax and talk...oh yeah...and eat!
I know this picture has nothing to do with the brunch...I just realized I hadn't posted any pictures of us all gussied up for the wedding!
Here are a few more pictures from the brunch.
Bobby, Clare's brother-in-law, designed Clare and Ryan's wedding invitations and the "guest book" he's hugging!
Malissa, Clare's beautiful mother, and beautiful Clare.
Speaking of beautiful...
Lily with Rosie and Katie - her two favorite babysitters!
On Saturday evening Ryan and Clare began the next chapter of their continuing love story. The weather was perfect...Clare was positively RADIANT...and the love Ryan and Clare share was absolutely palpable. It truly was like a fairytale...only much, much better...because it is real!
Surrounded by family and friends, Ryan and Clare were married in a beautiful and meaningful ceremony. Father W, the priest that officiated the ceremony, did not just marry some couple - he married Ryan and Clare. I have been to weddings that have a kind of (Insert Name of Bride/Groom Here) feel. Do you know what I mean?
Ryan and Clare's wedding was NOTHING like that. It was obvious that Father W knew and admired both of them. Father W spoke directly to Ryan and Clare and it was sweet to watch them nod their heads or laugh during different parts of the ceremony.
The beautiful ceremony was followed by an amazing reception. The venue was filled to overflowing with people who wanted to share in Ryan and Clare's joy. That joy coupled with delicious food, flowing drinks, and wonderful company...made for a magical evening.
John and Malissa, Clare's parents, were warm and gracious hosts. Spending time with the two of them it is easy to see where Clare gets her kind and loving nature. I am so happy that Ryan (and all of us by proxy) are "officially" joining this lovely family.
Ryan and Clare are blessed with a large group of close and supportive friends...including a Best Man/brother who, I think it is safe to say, was almost as excited about the wedding as Ryan and Clare.
It was so much fun to watch Ryan, Clare, and all their family and friends celebrating together (even if it did make me feel really, Really, REALLY old!).
With Dad's recent diagnosis I was afraid for me the evening would be bittersweet. Thankfully, Dad's joyful presence - together with all the obvious love and happiness - left no room for the bitter...but plenty of room for the sweet!
I am confident that Saturday evening was only one in a long line of "happiest moments" in Ryan and Clare's continuing love story. It is such a privilege to follow along on their journey to happily ever after.
For Halloween this year Lily decided she wanted to be a bat.
Well, what I should really say is...
Lily decided she wanted to be bat after she decided she wanted to be a pumpkin...and after she decided she wanted to be the solar system...but before she decided she wanted to be a peacock...which was after Mommy had already made the bat costume!!
Did you follow all of that??? Yeah, me neither.
Not only did Lily decide she wanted to be a bat, she decided she wanted us to be a family of bats! Since we always do what our 5 year old tells us to do...a family of bats we were.
Tony pretended he didn't want to dress up. Don't be fooled. I'm not sure who enjoyed tonight more - Tony or Lily!
Aunt Sheila and Nai Nai came over tonight for dinner and then "manned" the bat cave while our little colony of bats went out to do a little trick-or-treating.
We all had a really fun night and our little Miss Lily fell sound asleep before her little bat head hit the pillow.
The children were encouraged to dress up like a person they admire in "real life" or as a person from the Bible.
The first time Lily and I discussed who she would like to dress up as she said she wanted to be Mary. Unlike her choice for a Halloween costume, Lily's answer never wavered.
I can't tell you how much I wish my mother was alive to have seen Lily dressed as Mary. Mom had such a strong devotion to The Blessed Mother. I just know Mom would have loved seeing Lily as the "Lovely Lady Dressed In Blue..."
During Christian Heroes Day the kindergartners parade through the school singing "When The Saints Go Marching In" and 'pick up' the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th graders as they go.
The parade ends in the Upper Room where the 6th, 7th, and 8th graders are waiting for the younger kids. Oh my goodness. It was SOOO incredibly sweet!! You should've seen the faces of all the elementary school kids. They were positively BEAMING!!! It was so obvious that they enjoy performing for the big kids!
When all the kids were gathered in the Upper Room the Headmaster asked several of the kids to say who they had chosen to dress up as and why. One little boy had chosen to dress up as Matt Stover because Matt Stover points up to God after he makes a field goal, another little boy dressed up as David "Because David got to use a slingshot", and so on. The kids' answers were so cute.
After the Headmaster asked 5 or 6 kids who they were dressed up as and why he asked the kids, "Do you know why we celebrate Christian Heroes Day?" One little boy raised his hand so fast and when he was called on to answer he said, "Because you won't let us dress up for Halloween!"
I know that's not the answer the Headmaster wanted, but I've got to admit - I'm still laughing about it!!!
