ARCHIVES - 1996 to FOREVER

Father's Day, 1997.

My father died in 1963. I don't think that Hallmark had made up Father's Day yet.

I was a junior in high school, and we (my mother and I) had been totally isolated from the family in Oklahoma since 1959. Nobody knew that we were in Topeka, but the red cross was prompted to find us when he was burned. They found me by matching my date of birth with the school records... they went over records of every high school in Oklahoma, Kansas, Missouri and Nebraska. Quite a feat in those pre-computer days.

My recollection of this time is very hazy. I don't remember if it was in the spring or fall, or even how we were actually notified. We found out two days after the accident, and I think that he died on the third day. I don't think that I had a car at the time, because mom and I went back to Enid on a train.

My father was... an interesting man. To the best of my knowledge, we were a pretty cohesive family unit until my sister was killed in 1955. My sister Linda was two years younger than me, and my brother Dan (Jon) is four years older. Dad started drinking heavily after Linda was killed, and was abusive with my mother, but not to me; he was only abusive when he was drinking. And he drank as often and as much as he could. He pretty well estranged himself from the extended family also. He was institutionalized at one time (or maybe several times) for schizophrenia, and had electroshock treatments for this probably mis-diagnosed condition.

I did not get to know my father very well. He lived with us for a while in Albuquerque, and he and I went on a week-long fishing trip between Taos and Sante Fe that I will never forget. The scenery was beautiful, and I was with my dad! Just the two of us, no distractions from my mother or brother. He stayed sober for most of that trip, and it was wonderful. Never again would we be that close.

Shortly after this, he again became more physically abusive with Mom, and she and I got on a bus and moved back to Enid, Oklahoma. We stayed with my grandmother Mable and uncle Earl for a while, then moved into an apartment.

By this time, we were both fearful of my father. He came once to visit and I was with him one afternoon, then he left again; I never knew what transpired between him and mom, but the next week we were on a train heading north (supposedly) to Wichita.

I became concerned when we didn't get off in Wichita, and my mother told me that we were going to Topeka, instead, where my father would never find us. Everyone thought we were going to Wichita... so we had no contact with anyone in the family, except with phone calls about once a year to get any news from my grandma Mable.

I missed knowing my father. I did inherit his genetic legacy, the alcoholism. I fought it and I have won (so far) but I had not had the tragedy in my life that he had in his. I don't know what kind of a person I would be had I lost a child. I cannot judge him, either then or now. I can only say that I loved him, and that I know that he loved me. I wish that our time together could have lasted longer and been better.

There was a point when the whisky had taken over my life. And I remembered what it felt like to not know your father. And, through the whisky fumes, I realized that I had two sons who might well suffer the same fate that I had... and might follow in my footsteps and in my father's footsteps. I did not want this to happen. I determined that it would not happen! I poured my whisky and my beer down the drain, and set out to know my sons, and to have them know me.

It was not easy. Life is not easy. It was hard, hard, hard. And I did it, mostly. I quit drinking, and I have established a good and continuing relationship with my sons. JD and Tyler and I have something that I never had with my father, and I'm damned proud of it. That will be my legacy.

And now for today....

14:32 6/17/2007

I overslept yet again, getting up at 08:30... but I'm not feeling guilty about it this time. I took a coupla Karen's Tylenol PMs and I did get a good nights' sleep at last.

Dreams, of course, and not pleasant ones, but not nightmares either.

Karen was finishing up her breakfast when I got there, and wanted to go to sleep soon after that. She slept about an hour when Andy and his friend Joe came in. Joe is about Andy's age, and spent a lot of time under Karen's wing when her kids were growing up.

On their way out, I left Andy know what was happening, and what would happen... he had evidently been out of the loop...

She went to sleep again after they left, and about noon she was still sleeping, and Reta said that she would be here all day, so I went home and took a shower... feel much better for that.

I got back around 13:30, and she was mostly sleeping again... but still pretty lucid when she is awake... I'm not sure that she was all that awake when I talked with her. Her lung capacity is so diminished that it's hard for her to get the words out.

20:24...
While I was gone, Matt and Stacy had come by... Karen didn't have much to say about that, and I don't know why, since I wasn't there.

Kim came later in the afternoon... she's having a hard time of it, I'm afraid, as we all are.

The rest of the time that I was there was mostly with Karen napping, at least until supper, and she took her pills right before I left. Damn, I hate leaving every evening.

She told me this morning that she felt closer to death than she ever had before, and I pretty much broke down with that. Yeah, we know that she has only days or possibly weeks to go... but her coordination is starting to fail and she's sleeping a lot more. Not good signs.

On my way out, I ran into her nurse, who is an old, old friend of mine, she used to work in the ICU at Saints. I feel better knowing that Barb is there.

And dear Reta! What the hell would I do without her? I'm so glad that I called her, I almost didn't, just because I hate having to ask for help. But she volunteered for the long haul before I ever asked her, and she knew what she was getting into.

I did get a good sleep last night, and I'll get another one tonight.

Fuck cancer. Just fuck it.