This is the saddest story I’ve ever had to tell. And I even
thought of not sharing it with you, but you’ve heard about
everything else in my life.
This is the saddest story I’ve ever had to tell. And I even thought of not sharing it with you, but you’ve heard about everything else in my life.
My father died. He passed away suddenly on New Years Day of liver failure. I wasn’t ready for the shock of losing him.
My father was Thomas Edward Green and he was only 56 years old. He and my mother divorced when I was six and although I didn’t live with dad, I did try to see and talk to him as much as I could. After the divorce, my younger sister, Niki and I spent every other weekend with him. Once high school and other responsibilities kicked in, I was no longer able to see him as much as I would have liked. Work and school always got in the way. After moving to Boston, I only saw him a few times a year, but always kept in touch over the phone.
It was the Friday before he passed away just after Christmas and Niki and I went to visit him. I was leaving for Boston in a few days and wanted to see him before I left. It was one of the best visits we’d had in a while. We all went out to lunch and had long conversations at the kitchen table just like old times. None of us had any idea that his time was running out.
My father had remarried and had two other children. His wife and our step mother, Linda, and our half siblings, Ben, 12, and Hannah, just 10, always welcomed Niki and me into their lives and I know that are having a much rougher time of it.
Family and friends on both coasts have helped me get through the initial shock of the news. Friends rallied around to support me almost immediately. I had just flown into Boston the night before for a New Year’s party and now it was just New Year’s Day and my mother calls to tell me my dad is dead. I was alone in the apartment, but my hysterical calls brought friends to my side and they didn’t leave me alone for a minute. My best friend and roommate, Jenna, took a train from Connecticut to Boston to spend the rest of the weekend with me even though she wasn’t due back into the city for another week.
My mom and stepfather, Pat, have been my main support during the first awful days. I flew home to be with them and found my step-father hard at work making a DVD memory for my little sister and me of old family home videos that included fun times with my dad. Their support has made it possible for me to see the light at the end of this very dark tunnel.
Both Mom and Pat accompanied Niki and me to the funeral and later to the burial services. We arrived at the funeral to find the parking lot full, and the chapel was completely packed. It brought a smile to my face knowing my father in one way or another had touched everyone there. Dad was in an open casket, but I didn’t want to remember my father looking that way and so I thought it best to keep all us kids outside of the room till the service began. I tried to keep my gaze out of the next room, but my eyes were drawn to his casket. As I started to cry, I felt a tug on my blazer and looking down I saw my little sis Hannah with a kind of please-cheer-up half smile on her face. I bent down to hug her and she wiped my tears away. It is all about family at times like this.
The service was short, and very touching. I sat at the end of the first row, next to my family right in front of the pastor. It was easier now that the casket was closed and I was so proud to see that it was draped with an American flag to honor my father’s military service in the Vietnam War. I could also admire the many beautiful floral arrangements surrounding it.
The pastor offered the opportunity for the mourners to speak. Four people stepped forward to talk that afternoon. Three were friends of my father who got up and told what a good man, neighbor, friend and father he had been..that is, they all talked about what a good father he had been to Ben and Hannah completely unaware that my father had two other daughters from a previous marriage. It was a shock to know that most people in my father’s circle of friends didn’t even know Niki nor I existed. This realization and misconception led to the last person to get up and speak: It was my momthe ex-wife. I always knew my mother was brave, but this act of courage surpassed all the expectations I ever had of her.
She wanted to extend her deepest sympathies to all of my father’s family but her main reason for standing up was to introduce my younger sister and me to the rest of the people attending the service and to make sure that everyone present knew that Niki and I had a special place and bond with their father.
My father was buried two days later at the San Joaquin Valley National Cemetery in Santa Nella with immediate family and just a few close friends present. The ceremony took place in a covered gazebo on the grounds of the cemetery. Both retired and current members of the United States Army conducted the ceremony, which was performed with full military honors including a rifle salute and the playing of taps. Lastly, the flag that covered my father’s casket was carefully and formally folded into a triangle and three empty shells from the military salute were added to the flag and presented to my stepmother. We then drove up to the top of a rolling hill to a scenic lookout where we could watch the casket as it was lowered into the earth.
I was honored when my stepmother had earlier asked me to write something meaningful for my father’s headstone. I wrote a few words that I thought were worthy and fit his life and gave them to Linda for her consideration. At the burial service, I asked which one she had decided on. She chuckled and said that there was only one quote she could think of that truly showed the character of my father. With the phrase “GO S.F. GIANTS” on his gravestone, my father will forever be a cheerleader for his favorite team for all time.
Now that the shock has passed I can think clearly again and remember my father with smiles and happy memories. I am thankful for all the time I was able to spend with him and that nothing was left unsaid between us. Most importantly, we knew we loved each other. He was a kind man with a big heart, and everyone whose life he touched will miss him.
Good-bye, Dad. I love you.
Lacey Green is a Sophomore at Northeastern University in Boston. Readers may contact her at La********@*ol.com
