Gesuschic

My dad…sigh…he was a good man. Far from being perfect, just like everyone he had his flaws and demons.
He was a son.
A husband.
A dad.
A grandfather.
A Marine 🙂
To the world he was very private, reserved and quiet. To some he was even intimidating. But that was if you were judging a book by the cover of course. To those who knew him, really knew him…they would all agree that my dad never met a stranger. He laughed often, wore his heart right there on his sleeve for the whole world to see. He was a man who showed emotion although taught and raised not to. People say all the time how I look just like my dad but act just like my mom, haha But that’s only part true.
I get my deepest most heartfelt characteristics from my dad. I love with absolutely no boundaries whatsoever… When I love someone, there is no depth for the loyalties I carry for them in my soul. Even when hurt beyond pain, my heart will always find forgiveness beyond the scars. My strength and ability to keep moving on regardless of every circumstance coming towards me like a strong wind on the coldest day of the universe. My passion for the underdog and willingness to be a friend to anyone willing to share a smile, no matter their status, looks, faith, age or gender…That’s all my dad in me. Those things he taught me, those values he placed into my life were never done so by one spoken word. Yet only by the actions I watched as a child, youth, teenager, adult… He was a damn good man. I love him, I miss him.
The other unusual thing about my dad was the fact that no matter what was happening, his family was always on the forefront of his mind.
Even while standing at the thresh-hold of his very own death.
As much as I blog about my parents it dawned on me I have never really went into detail and told anyone about the last day my father was alive. So to all of you who knew my dad, and to those who didn’t, here’s the story of what all happened that sad beautiful day in December…
The phone rang, I was changing Ezra’s diaper and the machine came on. “Tommie-Girl..we need to go downtown today but before then I wanna grab lunch. Whenever you’re ready but I’d like to go around two. I love ya kiddo…bye.”
It wasn’t even 45 minutes later that Serenity came running up the stairs. (we lived in a duplex. side by side but there was a connecting stairway inside our two homes. My parents downstairs and Angel and I lived upstairs) “Mommy, Grandpa fell down and Mammy needs your help really fast.” I went downstairs and through their living room towards the dining area I could hear my mom’s voice…it didn’t sound right. I knew she was scared. Oddly I thought it was because she hadn’t felt well herself for the past few days. I figured it was stress I heard in her shaken words. I look back on it now and I’m convinced I was in denial. You see, my dad had been in remission for 13 months from brain cancer. a week before Thanksgiving he had fallen at the grocery store and long story short the cancer had come back, one giant tumor on the left side of his brain and it brought along two friends. They had given my dad 3-6 months to live if he decided on no chemo. Which he did.
“Dad? (he was sitting up at this point, in their food pantry) Did you get dizzy?”
I started to grab him under his arms and he grabbed my hands…looked me right in my face. “Tommie-Girl, I don’t have much time. I need you to listen.” “stop it, I can get you up.” (He grabbed my hands again) “Baby! I need you to listen. I’m having a seizure, it’s bad. I have a bag with all my medication in the drawer by my bed. You’ll need to bring it to the hospital. My will is in the same drawer bring that as well.” I started to cry…I said “I’m scared.” “Peanut, no time for being scared right now. I need you to listen. My words will begin to get jumbled any second so I have to talk fast. There is a brown envelope next to my wallet in the kitchen. It has the gas bill and the money for it. You gotta get that money order, mail it today, no matter what.” He said something…I couldn’t understand. I shook my head no…he started using his hands to describe what he wanted to say. It was the phone. He hadn’t yet called 911…I called. I told them to “PLEASE HURRY…I think my dad is dying.” Angel came running downstairs asking what to do…”Keep the kids upstairs.” I shouted. Charlie was asking “what’s wrong with Grandpa?” My dad told him “I love you.” That’s the last thing Charlie heard my dad say to him. “Dad? Let me get my shoes, I’ll ride in the ambulance with you. I wanna make sure everything’s okay so you can come home sooner than later.” I started to go, he grabbed my arm, he looked at me. Paused…smiled…”Tommie-Girl. I’m not coming back home. This is it, I’m dying. I need you to understand.” “Dad, what…what do I do…?” “I need you to drive your car. Bring the will and my medicines. Baby, you need to be there before me. I need you to be there for your momma. She won’t be able to pull that plug…” he started stuttering…his words were mixed up and jumbled…then he said “I need you and Angel to take care of your Mom okay? She’s going to need you and I need to know you’re going to be there for her, strong, okay?” The paramedics knocked on the front door. They walk in, my dad turns and says “I’ll walk out to the ambulance please…” There were four of them. They all looked puzzled. I said “Dad, wait. I love you so much.”
When I got to the hospital I was right behind my dad…The doctor came out. “Mrs. Morales, your father is having a grandma seizure. He walked in here, telling me exactly what was about to go down. I’ve never seen anything like it…he’s barley speaking but wants to see you right away.” I brush back the curtain, my dad is reaching out his hand to me. Smiling, not one single tear in his eyes. He struggles to speak, grabs my hand with his both his hands and says: “aww baby…don’t be sad, I love you too…so much.”  That was the last time I spoke to my dad. He hung on for another 12 hours, long enough for his brother to get in from Cinnci. Everyone said their good-byes. My Uncle went to get some air, his wife. Maggie went to the restroom, Pastor Dave convinced me to get some food so he and I went down to Wendy’s and my mom was there, with my dad…humming his favorite hymns and while it was just the two of them he drifted off to go be with Jesus, his mom, his dad…My dad went home.

“I can be cured of this cancer. It would be an awesome testimony. I could die a month from now, go to Heaven and have a complete healing from this cancer. Either way, God is good and I have no complaints, no matter what, I win.” ~Thomas David Ingram~ (last thing said after sharing his testimony at the Calvary Chapel Men’s Prayer Breakfast November 2002)
SELAH~

Thomas David Ingram May 8th 1944~December 12th 2002

Is it really the middle of fucking August 2012 already??? How insane is that? The time flies by so fast it’s almost as if I’m spinning in a circle.
Last Tuesday I was filling out my oldest daughter’s diploma information card for her graduation. I had so many tears just overcome my eyes I almost couldn’t see to write. I can’t deny I’m a sappy bitch when it comes to anything involving a fringe of emotion but I did not expect it to hit me so hard.
“Wow. Is Ren really in the 12th grade?”
My thoughts immediately went right to my parents. (May they R.I.P<3 ) Maybe that’s why I began to cry I don’t really know, but I kept wondering “what would they be saying right now?” I miss the absolute fuck out of them. Once in awhile I fool myself in thinking their deaths get easier but it’s just me lying to myself. I would almost say it gets more rough as I get older. Especially when I see people at the ages they would have been right now, thriving in life. I get pissed off.
Thinking somehow God totally cheated them.
My kids,
me…
My dad wasn’t even 60 for shit’s sake.
Not to mention my mom was barley done burying her fourth child and her husband when all of a sudden her Alzheimer’s disease went into overdrive and stole her sweet spirit and mind into oblivion never to fuckin’ return again. It’s all bullshit. One of life’s cruel relentless moments and facts.
Death.
I do see the fact me missing them and cursing the day at each of their death’s, is a tad bit selfish on my part. My anger is not justified. However I can’t help it.
My Ezra will be turning 11 this year and he doesn’t even remember my dad anymore. My Hanja is the same, but not only does she not remember my dad she’s starting to forget my mom.
My two oldest has the strongest memories of my parents. Charlie and Serenity…We have no other family but ourselves and I get sad thinking one day they may not even have me. My brothers are gone, my Sister. My heart completely breaks at that thought.
It’s getting close to that time where the season is about to change. Soon Summer of swimming, sweating our asses off from the ungodly heat will begin to fade and Fall and football will be in our path.
Along with the dreams of my family which seem to lurk with every change of weather, into my sub conscious mind and seem to burst out with a cruel “hello” as I sleep.
Recently I’ve had issues with work, fake friends, marital problems, and just plain loneliness which make their memories and reality of them not being a phone call away that much more unbearable for me. I try to breathe through every thought of my brother’s Randy and Kenneth’s laughter, close my eyes at my dad’s “I love you peanut” and my sister’s phone call of exiting new adventure she wanted to tell me about with a “CHERYL, OMG!” The worst though…Always the worst….My mom. Everything about her. Her complete honesty in anything and everything.
Openness to accepting anyone,
Unbound love of her children, Grandchildren,
ability to laugh in the best of times and even the worst of them.
Her hugs were magic in any problem that I had was made invisible just by her genuine touch of being a loving mom… This has been a VERY rough week man. There are so many things I would love to just talk to her about. Tell her, cry on her shoulder and have her hug them all away for me.
Fucking bullshit life…
She taught me to see the good in everyone but it seems to be getting harder and harder for me to do that and I feel like I can’t keep doing it without her encouraging me.
The first of the changing seasons dreams came last Friday. I had a fucked up meeting with my boss, fought with my husband, it was just a shitty day all together. I was going on 48hrs with no sleep and when I finally dozed off at 10:30pm I found myself standing in Cub foods grocery dept. (A store kind of like a smaller version of Wal Mart from back in the day). I was leaning over the frozen food with a package of chicken in my hand when my brother Randy comes swinging around the aisle with a cart full of food singing my childhood nickname…”T…o…m…m…i…e…G…i…r….l….{LAUGHS}” he said it again when I see my dad next to me holding his ever so loved chocolate donuts in the white and blue packages, just smiling when all of a sudden he said: “Peanut?” I felt my mom behind me as her arms reached around me with the biggest hug and she laughed and said: “What’s wrong baby?” I dropped the chicken and with my right hand I reached over and ran my fingers through her hair and said “Mom…and started to cry. My dad said “Wanda, it’s because we’re dead. she’s sad and lonely.” My brother Randy: “Sad? Tommie-Girl, we love you.” and he was gone…My dad…gone…I said one more time: “Mom…please…” She faded away and just like that, they were all three gone and I woke up to my fucking alarm going off telling me it was time to go to miserable work. Sometimes the dreams are welcoming.
Comforting to my spirit but man, sometimes they are so real I wake up forgetting they are actually dead. It’s as if I lose them all over again.
Serenity will be graduating this year and they won’t be there to see her walk across the stage. It was as if her very first day of pre school was yesterday and my mom and me were on pins and needles all afternoon.
It’ll be a tough Fall season man.
I wish they could still be here.

Selah~
CHERyL