Guilt

The last few weeks I have been feeling guilty. Guilty for not visiting my dad more, guilty for not asking him if he was afraid or what I could do for him. Most of all, I feel guilty for avoiding the subject of his impending death. I was too afraid and uncomfortable to talk with him, leaving him alone in this process. I am guilty of this and it brings me grief. If I had a do-over, then I would be brave and face death as a part of life, and I would be there for him.

I miss him and lament the life he has already missed~the birth of Augustus, his granddaughter driving, and us moving into our farm house. The very move that he said would happen.

Snow

I don't write much, it is just too painful. My dad is never far from my thoughts and I think of him daily....but writing about it, putting words to my pain, is just too raw for me.

Today it snowed. Our first snowfall in our new home. I remember being despondent to my dad, saying how I felt like we would never sell our small Seattle home and move to the country. My dad said, "It will happen." I didn't believe him, but of course he was right.

This snowfall is so meaningful because it is the first in our new home. It is also the first of the season and we are all very excited. My dad loved the snow and the sun. In fact, he appreciated all of the seasons. He was an adventurer at heart who often bundled me up to ski resorts when I visited. He would have enjoyed this snow. He would have been one of the first to put his warm clothes on and go pack the first snowball. He was game for anything and I am saddened beyond comprehension that someone with his zest could be robbed so early. He had so much more life to experience and would have loved playing with the kids.

So, today, our 2 inch snowfall (so far) brings me joy and saddness. I keen for him to be here, hear his voice on the phone with excitement, but it is not to be. Instead I am left with imagining how he would act and what he might say.

I hear, "Az, want to take a walk in the snow with me?" Of course I say yes.

Obituary

Albany newspaper Obituary

Obituary

John D. Linville was born in Colorado Springs, CO. on November 1, 1944 and passed away on July 4, 2009. He graduated from Oregon College of Education and spent time working as director of the Salem Head Start, and later as a truant officer for Linn Benton E.S.D. He retired in 2008 and was preparing for a joyful life filled with family and friends. He was a lover of animals, a friend to many, an avid reader, and an accomplished golfer, rafter, and softball player. He enjoyed traveling and clam digging with his wife Karen Kolen-Linville and tending to their immense garden. He is survived by siblings Bill, Doug, Beth, and Linda. He is preceded in death by his parents and sisters, Joan and Mary. His offspring include Aimie (Jon) Hunter and their three grandpa adoring grandchildren. Services on 07-08-09, 2:00 pm, at Fisher Funeral Home: 306 Washington SW. Albany, Oregon. Reception following at John and Karen’s home in Albany. In lieu of flowers, please make donations to Evergreen Hospice c/o Fisher Funeral.

The sun does rise

The sun does indeed rise after tragedy. I am typing to a glorious sunrise filled with the scent of freshly cut hay and birds chirping. The light is playing through the shadows of Sherwood Forest, dancing across the grass. Life does go on. My heart hurts and my mind dramatizes with the thoughts that this sunrise my dad will never see. Truthfully, he hasn't seen any for days and even weeks. His passing is all so final.

I hate the thought that he is in a morgue, keeping his body cooled and in limbo. I hate him being alone. I want to be with him but know that I am not strong enough for the coldness and stiffness of his body. I chose to remain in the room as the funeral people wrapped and transferred him into the body bag. Karen and her sister didn't want to be there, but I felt like I couldn't leave him. I kept thinking that these were the last few precious moments I would ever have with him. I couldn't leave, even had I wanted to.

Dad died

He died this morning at 2:20 am. I was really hoping he wouldn't die on the 4th...but logically I know that any day would be hard.

Jon and the kids are still in Seattle and I am thinking that I will drive back today and return in a few days for the funeral. I suppose it hasn't really sunk in yet, but I have been preparing for this day since December 21 when he was diagnosed with the three tumors. I am thankful that I got the last six months to prepare and give him extra attention.

He truly was a great and gentle man who loved all animals, was a family counselor, kept active golfing and river rafting, and loved to travel. He grew up in an incredibly racist and abusive family and overcame so much. He was the first in his family to graduate from college and create a new life. He was never abusive (never even spanked me) and went on to create a beautiful life for himself. I am astounded by how many friends come and visit him...all with stories of what a great man he was. He was so kind and I am so saddened that my kids will not know him.

I am scared

I spoke with Karen on Monday and she had said my dad was going down hill quickly but was still having moments of clarity. Today I received a phone call and she told me that he was "failing quickly" and her sister told me that he isn't responding to anyone. She mentioned that if I were to come and visit, he probably wouldn't even know I was there. The doctors have increased his morphine and he is completely unresponsive.