Twenty Years

I have no idea how twenty years could have passed so quickly. Twenty years ago today, my father left our earthly world. Twenty years ago. In twenty years, he didn't see the rest of his grandchildren, the rest of his great-grandchildren, or his great-great-grandchildren. He didn't see my husband and me move back from Chicago.

My dad was a funny guy; always cracking jokes and puns (so now you know where I get THAT from). I remember one time he pulled me aside, away from the “real” adult women (my mom, my aunt, and my cousin) to tell me this joke: “You heard how Vanna White lost her virginity on a golf course? Talk about a hole in ONE”.

I was simultaneously mortified and pleased. To this day, I wonder why he told me that joke, but none of the other women who were there. Maybe he knew that my love of all kinds of humor was ingrained (from him, of course). For whatever reason, he didn't want to tell it to everyone. I never did ask him why. I'm sure it was a fleeting moment for him, but it was a profound moment for me. He saw me as an adult. Or, at least adult enough to hear a somewhat off-color joke.

Growing up, we only had one bathroom. Whenever I'd get ready to take a shower, I'd always announce my intentions. “I'm going to take a shower”, so if anyone had to use the bathroom, they had fair warning. My dad's response was always the same. “Put it back”.

So many things I miss. That chuckle at his own jokes. The never-ending puns. His voice.

I really wish he could have known my kids, I wish he could have seen my daughter dance or my son play guitar. He wasn't extremely vocal about it, but he was extremely proud of his family.

My dad was very old-school. He fought in WWII, and was raised in an era where men did “man stuff”. When I'd say “I love you, dad”, he'd say “You're only saying that 'cuz it's true”. I remember he was in the hospital one time and I said that I loved him when I was leaving. He said, “I love you too”. I cried all the way home because I thought that was it.

I was in high school. My mom was at my sister's house, so it was just my dad and me at home. I had an afternoon exam that day, so like most teenagers, I slept as long as I could. When I came down from my room, I noticed odd things that I tried to explain away. My dad's car was in the driveway (maybe he got a ride with Earl). His lunch that I made was in the fridge (maybe he forgot it). His cigarettes and lighter were home (maybe he forgot those too??). Our neighbors' telephone number was in a very visible place (okay, LouAnn, call the number). No answer. Both neighbors were at work. Call my grandma. All she would tell me is that my sister was bringing my mom home, and they should be home in a couple of hours. Why? Mom's not supposed to come home until (I don't remember, but it wasn't that day).

The rest of that day is kind of a blur, but what had transpired was that my dad was having a heart attack. Rather than call an ambulance, he called the neighbor to take him to the hospital. That's why the neighbors' phone number was out. Later that day, when I went to visit him in the hospital, he asked me “Don't you remember me yelling up that I was leaving for the hospital”?

Well, yes, I remembered, but I assumed he meant he was leaving for work. I never heard the word “hospital”. I'm sure he told me, but the word never registered. It was that hospital visit when I said “I love you”, and he said, “I love you, too”. I was terrified that he wouldn't come home.

But he did come home. He was around for a good many years.

He went through a lot in his time on earth. A LOT. For all of the poking, prodding, cutting, drawing of blood, he never complained. He never said, “why me”. At least not to any of us.

The last night up at the hospital was a goofy night. Wheel of Fortune was on the TV, and my mom, sister, brother and I were winding down our visit. My sister and I were mocking the contestants, jumping up and down, and my dad was smiling a lot. We left knowing that my dad had a good night. We had no idea it would be his last night. Sometime in the middle of the night, we got The Call.

Twenty years ago today.

Now my mom and dad are reunited.