End of 2009

OK, short highlights. Apparently, a handful of you still read me. So to go over the year since I've written: never sold the house in Alabama. We'd had it on the market for a year without any offers, and then we got an offer that was ridiculously low, but I felt I had no choice but to take it. We were a week away from closing when the buyer lost his job. So, back to square one. And on top of that, it had essentially been off the market for a month in the summertime. Argh. So, after another month of hoping for a buyer, I put it up for rent. Went out to see the house in person, cleaned it, checked in on it myself. Got it rented soon thereafter. So we've actually gotten a couple months of rent now.
After that was settled, I was able to kind of settle into a new thought pattern here: no more horrible worry about two mortgage payments (without being "reimbursed" for one, at least), just some worry about something going wrong I couldn't afford to fix! But I guess it was an improvement.
This was September. Girls were back in school, and I was working a couple of days a week, as I have been since May, putting together the weekly entertainment section of the newspaper. Charlotte was settled into two days a week at day care. I was eager to be able to kind of regain my sanity after what was an incredibly stressful year. I can't remember a more stressful year, at least for a while back.
I went to Utah in July, flew into Salt Lake and was met by my dad there. We drove up to Rexburg, Idaho, for my nephew's wedding there. We had some nice time to talk and just be alone together for the drive up and back to/from Salt Lake. The wedding was wonderful. In August, we all drove up to Utah for a reunion of my freshman year ward at BYU. Was fun, had a good time all getting out on the open road together and seeing the sights. The girls had done the same drive in January, so seeing it all in August was a fun change of pace! We got to stop in St. George and see my dad's new place, where he'd moved in May/June to finally retire and have a good time just doing all the stuff he enjoys.
Little did I know at the time that would be the last I'd see Dad. The next I saw him was mid-October, on life support in an ICU in Salt Lake City. He had had a somewhat "routine" angiogram that had turned into an angioplasty, and later that afternoon, he'd started bleeding in his brain. The bleeding was so bad that they couldn't stop it, and it just flooded his brain. We started getting the news on a Tuesday night, and after a few quick updates that night, we knew it was looking to be irreversible. At first, I hoped it would be stopped and that, although he'd have some damage, he'd be not quite as good as new, but OK with some therapy. After all, Marce does specialize in neurological physical therapy. But quickly, we knew it was not going to go that way. We had to make plans to drive up to Utah -- and fast.
I managed to get some sleep that night, but first thing in the morning, I started taking and making tons of phone calls to family members, letting them know what was happening, and getting an update on Dad. The bleeding had extended finally to his brain stem, and it was all over. Our job then was to get up and see him while he was still "alive" on life support. We had a long day of driving. Typically, I like to read on trips. I just couldn't do it. Not much other than talking or thinking or just kind of sitting there in shock.
We all were able to spend some time with him late that night (very very late) when we arrived and then again the next day. It was difficult to see my dad like that, looking like he had just fallen asleep on my couch after my feeding him a good dinner, but knowing that he just wasn't even really "there" anymore. But I took what I had.
He was officially declared brain dead on Oct. 15, and we were able to donate his organs -- his liver and two kidneys -- and now three people are healthy and doing well, spending time with their loved ones, because of that. I can't imagine doing anything differently, if the opportunity presents itself. It is comforting to know that he could do that for two men and one woman.
All of my siblings and I had a funeral for him in Salt Lake on Oct. 17. It was a good experience for us, and I know a great thing for my dad to see us all together. I know he could be there to see it. I didn't spend much time with him in his coffin before we closed the casket. I had some time to say goodbye while he was still somewhat alive and warm, and I just didn't want to remember him in that casket. He looked good, though, and Marce and my oldest brother, Chuck, were able to dress him in his white clothes.
My life since then has been even busier and more hectic. We've had to figure out how to navigate finances in the way of wills, and I cleared out his apartment a month after his death. It was all physically and emotionally draining, and it came on top of an unbelievably difficult year for me. The grief has almost intensified as time has gone on because it just has hit me harder that he is really gone. It probably took a week after I got home to really have everything hit, and I was just overwhelmed. Things have gotten better in that I haven't been crying horribly every day. But I have a profound sadness accompanying me everywhere I go.
And that's the facts. I have not been my usual chipper self for some time now, which grieves me even more. I hope that things will settle back down (I've said THAT before) so I can have some time to heal -- from a lot of things. I have been blessed in many little ways, with little things I didn't even know to ask for. I know that I've been watched over. But my heart just wants my dad back and doesn't know how it will ever feel whole again. I know I can't possibly be the same again. I am sure I will be happy and "myself" again sometime, but I will never be the same.
I have come to appreciate just how little I understood how it felt for others to lose someone close. I didn't anticipate losing either of my parents for a long, long time, and this hit me like a Mack truck. And I now know how much more I could have done for others I knew who were grieving. Everyone grieves differently and needs different things. But I hope that now I can at least do a little better job of listening and trying to offer whatever someone else might need in their time of grief.
I end the year on a somber note. I staged a nice Christmas for my kids this week, and I hope it was good for them. For myself, I had a hard week, and I wasn't really feeling celebratory. But next week is a new year, and I hope somewhat of a fresh start in some ways. I'm going to do some fun things with the girls, provide them some more opportunities, I hope. We're going to take them to Disneyland a few times this year with a season pass. I hope that is just one neat thing that will be fun for us all. I plan good things. I plan to take some time for myself, to be with myself alone, to ponder, to write, to regroup. I plan for greater joy for my girls and my husband.
I hope to be a better friend this year too. I have been so self-centered of some necessity this year with all that has happened, so I hope that that portion of the past is past, and I can reach out more again. To you who are reading, I look forward to talking and emailing more in the future. Here's hoping we all have time for that.