Monday, March 8, 2021

Dad Redux

It's been almost a month since my Dad died.

It's hard to write that sentence.

First off my heart goes out to people who are in the crowded boat I'm in. As I've said before not a boat you want to be in.

 Let's do a bit of history.

Preparing for Dad's service I found myself in a dilemma. Do I fly up there to be there in person? Being a stroke survivor gave me pause about flying. I've got a bullseye on my back, I think the term is At Risk. Because of Covid-19 I haven't been on a jet since October 2019. Heck I'm nervous about even going to the airport. I picked up my Maya when she came to visit back in September. When she was leaving I parked the car and went inside. Heard the theme from Jaws the entire time.

So I had that voice in my head saying "You might catch it." But there's more. What if I brought something with me? I didn't want to do that. But he's my Father. So you can see my dilemma.

I went back and forth and asked everybody. They all said not to do it.

Then I thought I would just drive up there. It's 11 hours, one way, from Florida to Maryland. Again I asked everybody and the consensus was again "Don't do it."

Then someone came up with the idea to include me via Zoom. Like most people I first heard of Zoom last year. You see Zoom guests all over news shows and we, the viewers, are used to it by now. We're used to the fact that some Zooms are sharper and more in focus and some aren't.

To be honest, I'd never been part of a service with Zoom much less my Father's service. 

So there I was with my wife and my twins in front of my computer to honor my Dad, their Pop Pop. I told myself I wouldn't cry and I was wrong.

The Reverend couldn't have been nicer or better, it was a walk down memory lane. He talked about Dad's life and talked about how great he was in the church choir, how loved he was at his Assisted Living home. The organ played, he spoke, they even played a song my Dad sang from his CD that he made for my autistic brother Sean.

And then it was time for his kids to talk. And here came the tears.

My sister Karen went first and she was eloquent and she cried through the whole thing. My brother Kirk went next and he was eloquent and cried through the whole thing.

And then it was my turn.

Talk about tough.

I spoke about my Dad and spoke about my Mom as well. I said they were great partners great parents. I spoke about how important he was to us children. And cried through the whole thing.

I did tell a famous McEwen story.

My Dad's name was Alfred and one day a letter came to the house addressed to Albert McEwen. Well, my brother thought that was so funny and used to call my Dad Bert all the time after that. Cut ahead to a vacation in Cancun and Kirk tried to get my Father's attention from across a street. He yelled,"Hey Bert!"

A snooty man heard him, turned to my Dad and said, "You know, I don't let my kids call me by my name." Without missing a beat Dad smiled and said, "That's not my name."

Crying and laughing.

When it finally was over I was so glad to be a part of it. It's a memory I won't ever forget.

I got to say goodbye to my Father.

I got to say goodbye to my Dad.




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