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Susie and Dad at Sharon’s 70th birthday party
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One of our family vacations, to Costa Rica 2004
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Dick Jamison, Dad, and Mom on a trip to England
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Our last two dinners out with Dad, August 2017. This one was at Stone Creek
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Dad and Rocky, Kerr Island 2015
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Ed, Dad, and Misty
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In the year 2000, The Parents’ Fiftieth Wedding Anniversary Luau on Maui
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Dad, Mom, Eloise, and Roland, at the Roaring ’20’s Nightclub during happier days
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Uncle Ed and Dad
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Mom, Dad, and Pam, circa 1955
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Ed, Susie, and my father
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EPSON MFP image
Had my father survived, he would have been 98 years old. And, it would not have been a very happy life, because dementia was really taking a toll on the poor man.
The last conversation that I had with my father was 6 hours before his death. This is what we exchanged with each other:
Dad, you are still in bed, and its 2:30 in the afternoon, what’s up, it’s such a beautiful day outside.
You know son, I am always tired now, but I am about to get up.
Well, Dad, this might be the last sunny day in a long time, so why don’t you get up, and go out on the porch and have a cigar? I’ll put a chocolate bar on your table, and a drink for you.
I’ll get right up son. By the way, who is caring for me this evening?
Well, Dad, Madison is caring for you this evening.
Dad, Madison benefits by being with you, as you do with her.
I will be with you beginning this Sunday morning, and I will be with you for the next three weeks as usual. You know we are planning one final trip to Hawaii with you, right?
Oh son, I am happy just staying at home. I have everything that I need here.
Well, OK dad. I am going to leave now, as I need to prepare for Marty’s funeral tomorrow.
When will I see you again, son?
Dad, it will be Sunday morning, OK?
OK, son, you know that I am dependent on you. Please take care of yourself.
Oh, dad, you know that I am dependent on you, too. You be careful too!
I leave his room, not knowing this is to be our last exchange.
The next day, at 10:58am, as I stand in back of the hearse, as a pall bearer in Marty Crouch’s funeral, I prepare to receive Marty’s body to place into the hearse. I receive a call from Madison, which I cannot take, so I hand the phone to Sharon.
Sharon is informed that my father is deceased. Sharon has to leave the service for preparation of my father’s body. I return to father’s house, after meeting my obligation to Marty. The whole family is then traumatized again, subjected to a spiritual assault by the police, and the medical examiner.
After two hours of bullshit, I then let them “HAVE IT”, like only my father, and now myself, could do. That ME came around to where he should have been, at the beginning. The police left without further incident.
Wow, in life and in death, my father really knew how to place his unique stamp on my life!
Sometimes, it takes nearly an entire lifetime, to learn to unconditionally love and accept a father.
That is my story. And, I have written ten books, in my own unique effort to bring healing to our fucked-up world.
Is my father in a “better place”?
I am in a better place, that I know for sure!