The Day My Dad Died: A Look Back

December 17, 2018. It started like any other Monday. We all went to work and school. I went to lunch with friends for a gift exchange (this will have meaning later) that day. After work, Brent and I took the kids to Target to use gift cards they had received. We went home and went to bed. December 17, 2018. It ended like any other Monday.

December 18, 2018. Shortly after Brent left for work (around 5:00/5:30am), I received a phone call from my sister that would forever change my life. I had several missed calls prior to hers, but I have my phone set to silent from 9:30pm until 6:30am every day. Only calls from people listed as “Favorites” will come through at that time. I had just reset my phone, so my Favorites had been cleared. I had just added my sister the week prior due to missing calls from her about a miscarriage. I answered, thinking something was wrong with her. I was wrong. So very wrong. I can’t even tell you exactly what she said to me as everything from that point forward is a blur really. I recall her saying, “...dad...they think he had a heart attack...” She was crying. I start crying and ask, “Is he at the hospital?” Brandii said, “No.” I knew then he was gone, but I didn’t want to accept it. I told Brandii I would meet her at Dad’s. She was either already there or almost there. I called Andrea, Dad’s girlfriend, and ask what happened. It was basically the same conversation as I had with Brandii. “...they think he had a heart attack...” “Is he at the hospital?” “No.”

I called Brent. He had to go to Peoria, Illinois for work, but had not left town yet. He said he would head home. I called my aunt, Julie, and asked her to come to the house to get me and the kids to take the kids to school and me to my dad’s. I called Marisol (my manager), but she didn’t answer, so I called Kellie (my dotted line manager). I told her what happened and that I wouldn’t be in. Marisol called back and I told her as well. Both were very supportive and offered their condolences and assistance with things at work and at home.

Julie arrived before Brent. We sat in the living room in silence...I think. Again, things are a blur as I look back. Brent arrived before the kids woke up. We woke Zuri up and told her. She was stunned but it didn’t really hit her (she was 7). We told William, but he didn’t understand (he was 2). I told Brent to go ahead and make the trip to Peoria because I had Julie to take me. I think he was reluctant, but I urged him to go.

Before we had left, or maybe while we were heading to take the kids to school, Brandii called me again. She asked when I would be there because she thought the Coroner would be leaving soon. She was upset they wouldn’t let her see him. I told her to make sure they didn’t leave with him before I arrived. She promised me she would. I had Julie take me to my dad’s before taking the kids to school. She did. I arrived. The ambulance was there. No lights. This was no longer an emergency for them. He was gone. I walked in and the Coroner was talking to Brandii and Andrea. I heard, “...it was fast...there was nothing anyone could have done...he didn’t suffer...yesterday” What was going on? Was I really hearing all this? The Coroner said we could see him if we wanted, but they would bring him to the living room on the gurney. They didn’t want us to see him how he was in the bedroom. I can only guess that he was in an awkward position because the Coroner said it appeared as though he had been emptying his pockets when it happened, and I imagine he fell down then. While they got him ready for us to see, Brandii gave me his wallet, cell phone, and keys.

They came down the hall and into the living room. They told us we could see him if we wanted. I walked in and saw my dad’s lifeless body on that gurney and fell to my knees on the floor screaming, “No, no, no...” I swear I could feel my heart breaking at that very moment. His eyes were still somewhat open. He was cold. He was bluish-gray. He was gone. My dad. My rock. My hero. My handyman. My friend. He was gone.

After what seemed like hours, but was really probably 10-15 minutes, they left with him. I had them take him to Jessen Funeral Home. I knew they would do a good job. I also knew that John, the Funeral Director, would recognize me. I have attended several family members’ funerals at Jessen. The most recent being in August of 2017 when I had two cousins pass away within a week of each other.

When they left, I made a few more calls. I called my uncle, David. He is one of my dad’s brothers. The only one I really talk to. I asked him to call that side of the family. My aunt, Julie, had taken care of calling most of that side. I called my cousin, Tony. He agreed to meet me and Julie at his dad’s. My dad and Gary had become the best of friends so I knew this would hit Gary hard.

I drove my dad’s Jeep to Gary’s and me, Julie, and Tony broke the news to Gary. He told me he was supposed to have had dinner with my dad the night before. Gary had tried calling him (I knew this because I had my dad’s phone) and figured my dad was working late.

Julie took me to my dad’s work so I could get some information from HR there and because I just wanted to go see his workstation. I don’t know why. I can’t explain it, but I wanted to go. Brandii went as well. Kyle, my cousin and Julie’s son, worked with my dad so he met us when we arrived and took us back. His coworkers gathered around and offered their condolences. It became too much so I said I needed to go. I had a bag with some of my dad’s personal items in them. I knew I’d have to come back later to clear his stuff out, but I was assured no one would touch his things. Everyone knew it was off limits. My dad was well liked and respected there. He had been there for 24 years.

Honestly, what happened after that is even more of a blur than everything else. I know that Julie took me home. I had calls and texts from multiple people. I had a visit from friends and colleagues during lunch. I tried to sleep. I tried to not feel guilty that I had gone about my life the day before like nothing was wrong in the world when in fact, my dad had died, and I didn’t know it. In fact, I was finishing lunch with friends or just returning to the office at the time listed on his death certificate. I read through his texts. His last text said, “Pulled chest muscle probably.” Oh, how I wish that’s all it had been. I waited for Brent to get home. I really can’t even tell you how the kids got home. I think Brent picked them up or perhaps Julie did. Heck, maybe I did. I don’t recall what we did that night.

December 18, 2018. The day a piece of my heart died.

Me and dad during my stay at Riley after heart surgery. ~ 1991?

Me and my dad after Zuri’s Christmas Program. Last picture I have with him...on the last day I saw him.

Memorial tattoos. Top group matches my sister. Celtic knot for father/daughter. Dad was going to get this with us as his first tattoo. His handwriting and thumb print below. 

Infinity symbol with his date of birth and date of death. He lives on forever. Idea courtesy of my husband (who dislikes tattoos but supports me on these).