Currently, I'm at Mother's house and she's still asleep. I was waking up when a co-worker called from home so that got me up and going and the coffee started. I would do more cleaning and rearranging, but I don't want to wake her yet. She's fine, though, doing good.

So Dad died on December 15 and I'm backtracking now to December 17, Sunday. We get up at my sister's house in Dallas and come up to Mom's house. She already had company, I think, and that continued all day. There was hardly a moment for us to even talk and commiserate and I hated that.

In past years and months, I have bemoaned the fact that Mark and I don't have a church home, saying you need a church home to bring you food when you are sick or there is a death, and to visit you in the hospital, etc.etc. I have seen Mom and Dad's church friends do some very nice things for them. But after Sunday, I decided that maybe I'll rethink that. Maybe it would have been better if we had had visitation at the funeral home and none at the house. But, as it was, people came and stayed. Mark and I ate a sandwich in the kichen, but I know poor Mother was starving before she finally had a sandwich, but was embarassed to be eating in front of people.

Mark couldn't take the visiting part so he disappeared into the garage and started cleaning it up. It has always had disarray and had gotten really bad. It wasn't packed to the ceiling like some people's garages are, and there was room for the car, but it was a dirty mess. Mark tackled it and said it was like a EPA Superfund site with all the hazardous materials he found out there. He threw them all away (well, he disposed of them properly) and threw away rubber repair kits (who repairs rubber anymore?) and many other antiquated and useless items. He arranged Mom's outdoor plants on a shelf where they will get sunshine and survive the winter. He put all of her paper goods and things she buys at Sam's on shelves close to the house. He knocked himself out cleaning and filled boxes and boxes of trash.

Mark and I had to take Daddy's suit and clothes up to the funeral home. It was a beautiful place, like a lovely Hill Country home. We then went on up to the next town to talk to Dad's uncle that lives in a nursing facility there. Poor Uncle Dick, he has lost his last friend in the world. How alone he must feel. He was asleep, but I went ahead and woke him up. He knew me almost immediately and he also knew what I must be coming to tell him. I couldn't believe how good he looked and how intelligent and understandable his speech was. I really enjoyed our visit. He remember specifically when he'd last seen me (like 20 years ago?) and had lots to say. I told him I would be back.

I guess the tradition of really bringing food to the house is over. One sweet lady that has been a good friend of Mom's here, though she is a little overwhelming, brought a ton of sandwich things and chips and dips and bread and vegetables to put on the sandwiches. We ate that through the day. But that was all that was brought except maybe some zucchini bread and a frozen casserole. I guess the rest of that day is a blur. I know Mark worked on the garage into late in the night. I think company ended in the early evening, but I don't remember what we did at that point. I don't remember if and when my sister and her family were here, though I'm sure that they were.

Oh, I do remember now. The preacher came over that evening. He dropped by and visited with us all about our memories and things we wanted him to bring up. We told a lot of stories and had a lot of laughs. Mother was a little irritated that my older nephew was lolling, laying down on the carpet in the living room, instead of sitting up and being respectable to the preacher, but I think it was fine since it was all very casual. But I do come from a family that is all about appearances.

I don't remember anything more about that day, really. It wasn't a sad day. There were some tears, but mostly I am grateful. Selfishly, I am grateful that I don't have to be up here every weekend anymore. Grateful that I can spend time at home. Grateful that I can get some rest again (well, I expect to eventually in the new year). But I am grateful that Daddy isn't in pain and suffering and facing such a long long recovery time. Seeing your old naked father in the hospital is a hard thing, but seeing him old and feeble in a nursing facility for months or years would be so awful. Daddy hated "rest homes" terribly and fought and fought when we suggested assisted living. He would have done it for Mother's sake, if she had needed to be in assisted living, which, for a time, it looked like she would. I'm grateful that she doesn't have to live in assisted living because of him, and I'm grateful that he doesn't have to live there for any reason. I'm grateful that Mother can get some rest now and be able to relax and enjoy her time alone.

Obviously, Christmas is upon us and it surprised me every time I see decorations or hear news about the holiday. We had written it off already, knowing that Daddy would be sick through it. We would have been up here to see everyone, but we didn't decorate (...much, I did pull down one box) and we didn't buy gifts (....much, I got one thing for my sister's dog). B! tells me that death at Christmas is not such a bad thing because then you don't dread Christmas for months wondering what the first Christmas will be like. I don't know that we would have been like that either, but, whatever, this is what we have. And I have a feeling I won't associate Dad's death with Christmas, since we had not been all caught up in it this year. I know I will miss it a lot when January rolls around and I didn't have my Christmas celebrations. We'll make up for it next year. The saving grace is that I didn't have the panic of cards and gifts and decoration. I hope I can keep that panic and craziness to a minumum next year.

Okay, next entry we'll go to the funerals, but I'm taking a break.