Wingtips of a Dead Man

Guest Blogger…NATHAN EKLUUUUUND! The following is a story that Nathan told me last week, he was kind enough to write about it. Enjoy!

“What size shoe do you wear?”

“10.5”

“Do you want to try on my dead dad’s shoes?”

“Yes. Yes I do.”

Mary asked if I would be interested in trying on her dad’s shoes that they had purchased a month or two before he died. Frugal like Tom himself, I espoused the “if the shoe fits, wear ‘em” mantra and I went ahead and accepted. I mean who doesn’t want some free Rockport red/brown arminian chili colored wingtips?

To be frank, the shoes aren’t actually really my style, assuming I have a style. But I love Mary, I loved her dad, I love free stuff, and I figured I’d find some occasion to wear them. And I was right.

Last week I went with a co-worker to make a pitch to a potential large client. Please note: I don’t really “make pitches” to “clients” with “co-workers.” Not really my normal gig. But the morning came and when it was time to get dressed, I figured I should dress the part. I knew my co-worker would be the black suit sort of guy. So I decided to play a little good cop/bad cop and I went the more dressed down route. A pair of khakis. A blue dress shirt. A brown sport coat. Pretty plain. A little cute.

But then it was time to pick shoes. It was a clear loafer outfit. But looking in the closet, there were the shoes. Calling to me. And I realized why. Tom made a career of selling stuff. And I bet he was really good at it. So, despite that fact that they were the wrong shoes for the outfit, I slid them on. Did they look good? No. Not really. But were they the right choice? Absolutely.

As we pulled into the client’s office, a black cat passed in front of our car. No kidding. My colleague was sort of jokingly shaken by it. Regardless of your personal view of superstition, I suppose a black cat passing in front of you isn’t necessarily a good omen.

As we were sitting in the lobby waiting for the meeting to start, Phil reiterated that the black cat was sort of unnerving. I crossed my legs and pointed at my shoes.

“See these shoes Phil? These are the wingtips of a dead man. We’re okay.”

An hour later we left the meeting. We had crushed it. It could not have gone better. The shoes were clearly more powerful than the cat. From here on, I’m dedicated to wearing these shoes each time I’m in a sales situation. They might not look good on me. They might not be right for the event. But damned if they don’t work.

Happy 75th

Today is my dad’s birthday.

If he were still here he would be the big 75.

But…he’s not.  So we did what we could to celebrate him.

We went to church in his honor and then we went to the cemetery and found that someone had visited and brought him a flower.

We brought him coffee, his favorite muffin and then we remembered him, his love of church, his love of family and his love of friends.  Then we talked about  all the great things he would be doing today to celebrate himself.

I am sure there are a handful of people remembering my dad today, he had a lot of help celebrating his birthday.

Cheers to you dad.  Happy Birthday.

We sure miss you!

2 or 14 in dog years

Yes, another spring birthday.

She spent her last day being one eating all the left over Easter ham, which filled half of a gallon sized zip lock bag.  And then she shit herself and threw-up.

Sounds about right for a Sellke birthday bash.

Happy 2nd Birthday Lucy!

Haiku for all seasons

It’s really starting to sink in that my dad is gone.  As of late, the littlest of things can trip me up.

Last week I saw someone I hadn’t seen in several months and she asked how my dad was doing,  I burst into tears.

Driving by the cigar shop that my dad hung out at,  I burst into tears.

Having Easter hopping into our lives and CT’s birthday landing right on it, is hard.  Easter was my dad’s favorite Catholic holiday and he loved it when it coincided with his birthday.

About a week after my dad died, I received a card from one of my parent’s friends and on it was a Haiku.

I thought the worst thing to happen is that you would die –

but then you stayed dead.

Yup, that’s the worst.

Down to one

At one point in time, our family had seven animals living in the house.  As of yesterday, we are down to one.

Whiskey “bit it”.  It was sad but no tears were shed.  My kids are getting the hang of the circle of life.

KP’s night time prayer went like this, “And I pray that Grandpa and Whiskey can now be together in heaven.”

I’m not sure Whiskey is going to feel the same way after last Easter.

Sitting still

Today at church, while I sat still and listened to what was being said, I remembered a story a neighbor of my parents told me.  I have forgotten all about this, until today.

One of my parent’s neighbors has dreams.  He dreams about about good things and bad and about people he knows.  Many times he dreams very interesting dreams about people at very interesting times.

This particular neighbor had a dream about my dad, the night he died.

In his dream he saw my dad.  The entire scene started out gray.  The next thing he saw was my dad dressed all in white, a great white light surrounding and emanating out of him.  Only the dark rims of his glasses showing through.  My dad looked at his neighbor and said, “Don’t I look just great!”

And as I remembered the telling of this dream, I felt him there…there with me.

How adults say goodbye is different

My friend Ellen was wielding the camera during my dad’s funeral and burial.  She caught this shot, which I just love.  Here it is…the last touch the kids will ever get of their grandpa.

However, the story doesn’t end there.

Before the casket even got out of the hearse, KP was standing at the edge of the very large grave, peering over the edge to see indeed how big that hole was and wondering what was going to happen next.  Like maybe he might even fall in.

After the burial service, as people were dispersing, the kids asked how the casket got into the ground.  Which quickly turned into, ARE WE GOING TO SEE GRANDPA GO INTO THE GROUND????

I quickly shot a look to my mother that said, you ok with this?  And with her nod of approval, the funeral director got the tooth missing, butt crack showing grave digger to come out early and lower my dad into the ground.

As they were watching in amazement, as the box went deeper and deeper, they each grabbed a flower from the arrangement on the casket.  And once the casket was in, they asked if they could throw in their flowers.

And with great gusto, as only little kids can get away with, they started throwing flowers into the hole and onto of the casket and belly laughing as they did it.

My mothers parting words were, “Your dad would have loved that.  The kids circled around him and the final thing he would hear, their laughter.”

Night time prayers

Last night as KP was finishing up his prayers, he ended with, “and I hope Grandpa is comfy up in heaven.”

Kiss Goodbye

When someone you love is dying, they tell you to say everything you want to say to that person.  Get it all out, don’t leave anything behind.

I struggled with this thought over the past weeks.  I felt as though, luckily enough, I had said everything to my dad, while he was alive, that I ever wanted or needed to.  He knew how much I loved him, admired him, cherished his love and his time, his tender heart and his wickedly funny sense of humor and irreverence.

But yet, I sat wondering if there was something else I should say.  Was I missing something?

The past two weeks have been hard.

Watching my dad’s condition deteriorate and seeing him struggle with the pain while we cared for him at home, was more than I could bear.  I have no words to express the torment I felt.  I could do nothing.  I could do nothing but be there and hold his hand and as tears fell down my cheeks, he apologized to me.

I of course kept talking, that’s what I do.  I would tell him stories, read him prayers, let him know of the mundane stuff that was happening in our life.

It wasn’t until I realized the end was drawing near and even though I had told him everything I loved about him, I still hadn’t said goodbye.  I hadn’t told him to go.  Go and be free from pain.

Why the hell would I tell him THAT?  I didn’t want that.  How was I going to tell him that?  He CAN’T leave yet!

And one night, when the pain was great, I told him that he should go.  With sobs and tears and my body draped over the man that took my little hand in his as a child, it was time…time for me to tell him to let go.

Can you sleep?

Last night was my second night “on duty” with my dad and there was very little sleep found in the living room between either of us.

As the night wore on and the movies were changed and we took bathroom breaks and walks around the livingroom, the clock ticked by so slowly that the seconds were defening.

I didn’t realize until this morning, that my dad was scared to go to sleep for fear of not waking up.

Oh the crushing thought.  It has plagued me all day, bringing tears to my eyes and sorrow to my very core.

Can you even imagine your body breaking down around you and your mind not ready to give up the fight?  You DON’T want to die, leave your family, friends and everything else including the memories of your life that you hold so dear, but your body is making it happen regardless of what your mind is saying.

YOU have no choice but to travel the path, like it or not.

That is where the fear sets in.  The fear that you will lose what earthly things you know, have and love.

I just can’t wrap my head around it.  So I cry and wish I could do something, anything.

But I can only sit and hold his hand and hope that helps the fear, just a little.