Memories of my Father Part 1

It was 11 years ago today that my father died. Friday July 15. 2005. A surreal day if there ever was one.

I received the call approx 11:00 a from my dad's partner Stella, she said she couldn't wake my father.

I had just returned to my former job 2 weeks prior and had just returned from picking my mom up from the hospital earlier in the morning.

I flew out of the office saying I had a family emergency. As I drove to the house, several thoughts rushed through my mind, was this for real and if it was, the first dead body I ever see is my father's. I phoned my brother and told him I think this is real.

As I turned left onto his street, I saw from 4 blocks away red flashing lights. Tears started rolling down my face. I parked in front of the house, sat in my car for several minutes,  felt like hours, gaining my composure.

When I entered the house, Stella gave me a big hug and said he was in the bedroom. I started to walk down the hall to the bedroom, stopped halfway full of fear, a million thoughts running through my mind, nervous anticipation.

I came back to the living room where Stella was with the 2 two paramedics who couldn't have been more than early twenties.

I asked them to come with me. Flanked on either by them my head was staring at the carpeted floor silent and in deep thought. At the bedroom door, I looked in and my knees buckled ever so slightly.

There was my father sleeping peacefully except he would never wake up. He was in his side, one arm on top of his head the other by his side. I was convinced I saw his chest expand and relax. I gasped. The paramedics asked if I was okay, I said fine inside I was a wreck full of emotion. At that moment my phone rang. It was my brother asking what is happening, he was driving back to the city.

I walked back into the living room and comforted Stella with another big hug. The young paramedics took their leave to be replaced by 2 city police officers. It would be several hours until the medical examiner came to pronounce and remove the body.

I went and spent some quite time with my father and the police officers. I sat on the edge of the bed telling him how much I loved him and how much I would miss him. I moved my hand over his back and his arm.

As other people starting arriving I spent my telling the police officers all about my father. His life, his passions, his story and his contributions to mankind.

11 years later, I know you are around me every day. I feel your prescence, your energy, your strength. I am motivated and empowered by it.