Busy Celebrating

I am between Celebrations of Life:  Justin's and my Dad's.

More than 125 people came over the course of two hours to a local park shelter for Justin's celebration.  I'm not terribly comfortable being one of the focal people at large gatherings, so the whole thing was a blur to me.  Julia and her pickleball friends organized it. We ran out of beds and couches at our house.  Julia and I slept in the Scamp.

A soul food catering place from Madison brought in Justin's favorite foods: fried chicken, ribs, macaroni and cheese, and cornbread muffins.  A large assortment of Justin's Asian snacks was also put out for people to try.  The dried seafood was tried by many but liked by few.

Many tears were shed, but it was also a time for shared memories and laughs.  I'm finally sleeping better after almost six months of broken sleep patterns.

We gave away most of Justin's furnishings and valuable personal possessions.  One of those included the wheelchair van, which we planned to donate to someone in a need of a vehicle at Justin's church.  

Unfortunately, two days after the man (my age) received the vehicle and before he could get the title changed, he died after suffering a stroke.  It's just been that kind of year.  His surviving brothers and sister want the van to go to the church, and that's the tentative plan for now.  

My Dad's Celebration of Life will take place this Saturday in Iowa.  I expect a much smaller gathering as my Dad outlived most of his friends and family.  After that, I think Julia and I will head up north in the Scamp.  

And The Other Shoe Drops

 

Muscatine, Iowa is an old river town along the Mississippi, settled by white folks in 1837.  Iowa State University operated an experimental farm here, and the area is widely known for producing some of the most delicious watermelons and cantaloupes in the country.

Last Sunday afternoon, towards the end of my stay at Shady Creek COE (just north of Muscatine), I received a text from my mother, indicating that my father's three month journey in hospice was close to the end.  I hitched up on Monday morning and towed the Scamp ninety minutes to a county park campground on the eastern edge of Cedar Rapids, Iowa.  

Indeed, my dad was no longer responsive, and the hospice nurse told us that he could pass away at any time.  We sat with him for the rest of the morning before taking a break for lunch.  I then returned to the Scamp to let Callie out for a short walk.  During that time period, Mom went back to my Dad's room and found that he had stopped breathing.  She gave him a hug and a kiss; he took one more big breath, and then he passed away.  

Dad was 91 and lived a full life.  He graduated from a small Catholic high school in Cedar Rapids and then volunteered for the Marine Corps during the Korean War, receiving a purple heart during two tours of heavy combat.  Dad's time in the Marines had a profound impact.  A disinterested, undisciplined student in high school, he found discipline and confidence as a Marine.

After discharge, he started college, completing his bachelor's and master's degree at the University of Iowa.  He then obtained his PhD from Stanford University.  

From there, Dad became the first principal at a new Madison, Wisconsin high school and stayed there several years before accepting a position as assistant professor at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee.  He wrote two textbooks in the area of secondary school administration, eventually becoming a full professor and chairman of his department for many years.  

My mother and father were very close during their long marriage.  At times, he was a difficult parent (Marine Corps strict) but he taught us to work hard and to never quit. 

Dad also taught us a love for travel.  We took family vacations across the country and even to Mexico and Hawaii.  He was very frugal in many other ways, but travel and education were things that he was willing to spend on. 

Losing my father and my son over a one month period has been one of the most difficult periods of my life--even though both events were somewhat predictable.  There will be two celebrations of life this month, and then it will be time to move forward with the memories intact.  Thankfully, the anxiety and stress have already started to dissipate.