Yesterday I was at a memorial service for my Dad. If I ever had doubt that he was a kind and gentle spirit those doubts disappeared as people who were business associates, colleagues, students of, or just friends came to me one after the other to tell me how kind, caring, and genuine my Dad was.
Roy, a guy I knew when I was a kid and would visit my Dad’s TV station, came up to me and said that Dad was the kind of guy who cared for the people he worked with. Who nurtured and supported them so they could get ahead. Roy told me about how he moved his way up the career ladder from a guy who kept the library of film to an editor (maybe before he was actually ready). All along my Dad knew how to encourage and teach those around him so they could reach their potential. He tried to hide them behind his sunglasses but I saw the tears that came to his eyes as Roy said how much he loved and missed my Dad.
I was able to place names with faces as all these people from Dad’s past came to pay their respects. Two of his close friends, Ken & Dave, talked about Dad’s accomplishments and his heart. There wasn’t a dry eye in the place as we all remembered how loving and generous he was.
After the service we had some time to visit with each other and share remembrances and I especially enjoyed speaking to Dave who was my Dad’s closest friend over the last 20 years. Dave has the grin of Old St. Nick and you could feel the warmth of his friendship with my Dad in the way he spoke of him.
Even though we came to honor my father there was an underlying stress to this event. A tension that stemmed from someone who deep down inside didn’t feel like sharing. A person who the world revolves around and loves the spotlight but hates criticism. Avoiding those things that are hard to accept and returning to apologize the next day to those offended when it’s already too late. This person is frustrated because even though the person thinks they are saying the right thing most of the time it is not about what you SAY but what you DO that defines your character. Certainly people mourn in different ways but it is offensive when one persons mourning has damaging effects to other mourners. This certainly can’t be good for the offender either.
I wonder what goes on in the head of a person like this.
I wonder what they dream of.
I wonder if there is any chance that this person will change or if they’re an old dog who has long since given up on new tricks.
I just fall back to my standard mantra these days:
“What would Dad have wanted?
What would he do?
What would he want me to do?”
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Numbers
I felt the warmth of my friends and family around me and it helped to ease the blow of what had happened but there was still emptiness. I am still in shock; I can’t get over the fact that he is gone. Sure the support is great but if I am looking for closure I didn’t find it. Though I think this event may be a step in the right direction but I still feel lost.
In my dreams that night I saw my Dad for the first time since his death. I don’t know why it took nearly two weeks for him to show up in my dreams but there he was. I saw a vivid image of him pointing to numbers on a telephone. Telling me to remember these numbers. I found myself repeating them in my head, making sure I didn’t forget and telling myself that I can’t forget to write them down when I awake.
The following day I felt as though a dark cloud was above my head. No longer did I have the open house preparation at the forefront of my mind, keeping it busy. Now all that was left was loss, emptiness and those 11 numbers. I wish I knew what those numbers meant. I looked them up as though they were a phone number and found they referenced a couple in Michigan, the Templins.
How strange would it be for me to call the Templins up and find out if they knew my Dad?
How amazing would it be if they had some connection?
How terrific would it be if they could help me find answers to the questions and doubts that invade my head?
I haven’t called.
In my dreams that night I saw my Dad for the first time since his death. I don’t know why it took nearly two weeks for him to show up in my dreams but there he was. I saw a vivid image of him pointing to numbers on a telephone. Telling me to remember these numbers. I found myself repeating them in my head, making sure I didn’t forget and telling myself that I can’t forget to write them down when I awake.
The following day I felt as though a dark cloud was above my head. No longer did I have the open house preparation at the forefront of my mind, keeping it busy. Now all that was left was loss, emptiness and those 11 numbers. I wish I knew what those numbers meant. I looked them up as though they were a phone number and found they referenced a couple in Michigan, the Templins.
How strange would it be for me to call the Templins up and find out if they knew my Dad?
How amazing would it be if they had some connection?
How terrific would it be if they could help me find answers to the questions and doubts that invade my head?
I haven’t called.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
My Dad
I have sat down six times over the last few days to write down these words. They may not be completely coherent but I will do my best.
On Monday November 27th at 5:15am my Dad died, 7 days after his 68th birthday. Before he left even though he was not able to communicate we were able to tell him how much we love him and he heard us.
I send this out to all the people that loved him, knew him, or simply were familiar with my Dad's struggle with diabetes and kidney disease. As I write this so many thoughts are swirling around in my head: the regret of not having enough time with him, the wish that I could turn back time (like Hiro Nakamura in the show Heroes) and somehow change what happened, the hopes and dreams we shared for his future, the emptiness inside me after losing him.
On October 28th my Dad finally got the chance he had waited more than 8 years for, a kidney match had been made. When they performed the surgery on October 29th the doctors found that Dad has a massive infection in the cavity around his stomach that had gone undetected. This infection had it been found before the surgery would have resulted in his being denied the transplant. They also found a carcinoma in his bowel which they removed. So when the surgery which lasted more than 8 hours was complete the doctors had saved his life whether the kidney functioned or not. The coming weeks found slow progress with the kidney but by mid November my Dad began to do something that he hadn't done the previous 8 years. He began to pee. It wasn't as much as a healthy person, he was urinating somewhere between a pint and a quart of liquid a day, but it was far more that the one ounce a day he had become used to.
During his recovery we enjoyed some good times. Nina and I visited UCLA frequently and most of the visits we spent talking about TV, movies, current events and on occasion I would bring in some of Dad's favorite foods including dim sum. I loved so much the talks we had.
One of Dad's gifts was the ability to layout a problem that I presented him so I could see the outcome should I pick one solution or another. I will forever be grateful for this gift and I have and will continue to practice it with others for the rest of my life.
He was always supportive and never judgmental. It was not a surprise that his heart required a bypass and so much maintenance over the years because it was so big, so charitable, and so full of love. He was strong and tough when it was required but you always knew what an old softie he was inside. He was a fighter and a survivor who had beat the odds time and time again. He was my Hero.
On November 20th I visited Dad for his birthday and he was in good shape but tired from the physical therapy he had performed that day. I was lucky enough to be there when he got one of the best birthday presents ever. A visit from his grandson TJ and TJ's girlfriend Michelle. I was so surprised and happy to see them and the minute Dad saw them there was this amazing warmth that filled the room as Dad cried with happiness. Yes the old softie had come out once again.
At some point during the following week he contracted an infection that didn't show itself until late Thursday night. From that point on doctors tried everything they could to give him a chance to fight the infection and the nurses tried to give us hope but by Sunday morning I think we all knew the end was near.
Though he had been in a coma that was induced by the infection and he could not speak I discovered through the day Sunday that he was hearing what I said to him at each visit. During one of my visits in the early afternoon I got up in his face to tell him how much I love him and to give him a hug as he lay there in his hospital bed. At that moment I thought I saw his head move. The first response I had seen from him in many days. When Nina and I walked out the ICU I told her that I could have sworn I saw his head move and that he heard what I was saying. She told me she saw his leg move when I was talking to him. I went back to his bedside a few minutes later to confirm my feelings and he was able to raise an eyebrow, and give me a partial grin to let me know he heard me.
On Sunday Night my Step-Mom Jan and a couple of chaplains from the hospital visited him to give a blessing based on his Episcopal Faith. Following this first Nina and I and then my brother Tom and his wife Cari were able to visit him one last time. On this visit my brother and I told my father pretty much the same words. We told him that we love him and that it is up to him if he wants to keep fighting and that if he was tired and ready to leave us that it was ok. That if he wanted to continue fighting we would support him but we didn't want him to fight just for us. I told him how much I love him and that I would take care of Jan and the others he left behind. As I said these words I saw a tear come from his eye.
In my grief I write these words and I hope that this letter is not seen as burden on you. If nothing else it is a celebration of my father and the love I have for him and a part of the process that I must go through to find the closure I so desperately need. Hopefully as time passes what will remain are memories of the good times we had.
On Monday November 27th at 5:15am my Dad died, 7 days after his 68th birthday. Before he left even though he was not able to communicate we were able to tell him how much we love him and he heard us.
I send this out to all the people that loved him, knew him, or simply were familiar with my Dad's struggle with diabetes and kidney disease. As I write this so many thoughts are swirling around in my head: the regret of not having enough time with him, the wish that I could turn back time (like Hiro Nakamura in the show Heroes) and somehow change what happened, the hopes and dreams we shared for his future, the emptiness inside me after losing him.
On October 28th my Dad finally got the chance he had waited more than 8 years for, a kidney match had been made. When they performed the surgery on October 29th the doctors found that Dad has a massive infection in the cavity around his stomach that had gone undetected. This infection had it been found before the surgery would have resulted in his being denied the transplant. They also found a carcinoma in his bowel which they removed. So when the surgery which lasted more than 8 hours was complete the doctors had saved his life whether the kidney functioned or not. The coming weeks found slow progress with the kidney but by mid November my Dad began to do something that he hadn't done the previous 8 years. He began to pee. It wasn't as much as a healthy person, he was urinating somewhere between a pint and a quart of liquid a day, but it was far more that the one ounce a day he had become used to.
During his recovery we enjoyed some good times. Nina and I visited UCLA frequently and most of the visits we spent talking about TV, movies, current events and on occasion I would bring in some of Dad's favorite foods including dim sum. I loved so much the talks we had.
One of Dad's gifts was the ability to layout a problem that I presented him so I could see the outcome should I pick one solution or another. I will forever be grateful for this gift and I have and will continue to practice it with others for the rest of my life.
He was always supportive and never judgmental. It was not a surprise that his heart required a bypass and so much maintenance over the years because it was so big, so charitable, and so full of love. He was strong and tough when it was required but you always knew what an old softie he was inside. He was a fighter and a survivor who had beat the odds time and time again. He was my Hero.
On November 20th I visited Dad for his birthday and he was in good shape but tired from the physical therapy he had performed that day. I was lucky enough to be there when he got one of the best birthday presents ever. A visit from his grandson TJ and TJ's girlfriend Michelle. I was so surprised and happy to see them and the minute Dad saw them there was this amazing warmth that filled the room as Dad cried with happiness. Yes the old softie had come out once again.
At some point during the following week he contracted an infection that didn't show itself until late Thursday night. From that point on doctors tried everything they could to give him a chance to fight the infection and the nurses tried to give us hope but by Sunday morning I think we all knew the end was near.
Though he had been in a coma that was induced by the infection and he could not speak I discovered through the day Sunday that he was hearing what I said to him at each visit. During one of my visits in the early afternoon I got up in his face to tell him how much I love him and to give him a hug as he lay there in his hospital bed. At that moment I thought I saw his head move. The first response I had seen from him in many days. When Nina and I walked out the ICU I told her that I could have sworn I saw his head move and that he heard what I was saying. She told me she saw his leg move when I was talking to him. I went back to his bedside a few minutes later to confirm my feelings and he was able to raise an eyebrow, and give me a partial grin to let me know he heard me.
On Sunday Night my Step-Mom Jan and a couple of chaplains from the hospital visited him to give a blessing based on his Episcopal Faith. Following this first Nina and I and then my brother Tom and his wife Cari were able to visit him one last time. On this visit my brother and I told my father pretty much the same words. We told him that we love him and that it is up to him if he wants to keep fighting and that if he was tired and ready to leave us that it was ok. That if he wanted to continue fighting we would support him but we didn't want him to fight just for us. I told him how much I love him and that I would take care of Jan and the others he left behind. As I said these words I saw a tear come from his eye.
In my grief I write these words and I hope that this letter is not seen as burden on you. If nothing else it is a celebration of my father and the love I have for him and a part of the process that I must go through to find the closure I so desperately need. Hopefully as time passes what will remain are memories of the good times we had.
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