Don't Cry Daddy

Disclaimer: This might get personal.

13 years ago today, I went to church for our Tuesday night meeting.  Lisa and her parents took me home because Momo and Pop were both there and weren't able to take me.  Momo wasn't doing well and hadn't been for the last few days.

We went home and I remember everyone packed in that small front bedroom to pray.  Afterward I went to work on my memory verses and I didn't go back until I heard people in there and even though I was 9, I knew what was happening.  I may not have realized it but I knew.  I peeked around the corner, and I'll never forget.  I immediately went back into the dining room to hide and cry, hopefully unnoticed.  I'm not sure how successful I was, that small house was filled with a big family. 

The next thing I remember was sitting on the couch curled up next to my Daddy when the paramedics came in.  They wanted me to leave but Pop told them I could stay.  He always stuck up for me, he was the best.  I'm so much like my mom, that the only thing I remember thinking was how her pajamas had been moved and she wouldn't like being uncovered like that when they brought her through.  Funny, how it honestly didn't matter, but again, I'm that much like my mom. 

Pop and I didn't go to the hospital together.  Aunt Betty and Uncle Marshall had just got back into town from Alabama and they took me.  Momo had asked that they bring her back some water from this spring they'd all been to the year or two before.  I was the one that ended up drinking that water, she never got it.  I'll never forget looking at the clock in their van, it said 9:00. 

We get to the hospital and I got to go back to where my parents were.  I went into that room and saw the monitor hooked up and I remember seeing the line barely wiggle and I had this hope and then I felt Pop's hand and I don't know if it was him or the doctor that must have seen the look on my face, but one of them explained that for a while afterward a person's heart would still beat a bit. 

The next thing I know Pop, Aunt Betty and Uncle Marshall are in the small family room there and I remember running in there and sitting on Pop's lap again, I didn't like being apart from him.  I don't remember why I was running in there crying but years later Pop told me that someone had told me out in the waiting room that I wasn't going to be able to live with him anymore, he never told me who said that.  Which was a good thing for whoever thought that was an appropriate thing to say considering the timing.  I heard a lot of that nonsense over the next year.   

Pop and I made it home and I remember falling asleep in her recliner and waking up and overhearing people in the kitchen talking and I realized it was real.  That had really just happened.  And then... there was ham.  So. Much. Ham.

In the months and years afterward my focus was on holding it together and staying strong for Pop, so he wouldn't worry about me.  He missed her so much.  She was the love of his life.  I always felt like I wasn't enough, and I wasn't, but I tried.  We had our ups and downs learning how to live without Mom.  Pop always said he wished he would've paid more attention to her while she cooked.  I wish he would've!  No joke, our diet for probably the next year was soup, ramen noodles, and grilled cheese sandwiches.  And then there was the time I was supposed to do the laundry....
"Pop, how do I set the washer?"
"I don't know, isn't that just bred into you?"
He was serious.  Yeah.. that happened.  We ended up figuring it out together after fighting for a while.  Ha.  But the point here is that we helped each other through the very first life changing event of my life.  I kept him going and it's become increasingly clear these last almost 8 months that he kept me going as well.

She was the love of our lives. (Which is sort of why "A Little Less Conversation" is only my second favorite Elvis song, second only to Don't Cry Daddy)

So, the plan for the day?  Go buy flowers, school, workshop, hangout with a friend, and most importantly KEEP BUSY.  I'm not sure exactly what to do without Pop here, I don't have to call and try to distract him or encourage him this year.  He missed her more than I ever could.  Losing her was hard, losing him is a thousand times harder.