The drive...
The 22 freeway has been a mess since I moved to Orange County and it was no different on this night.
I started to get angry about the traffic but I realized my Dad wasn't going anywhere...at least not without my signature. I thumbed my cell phone but decided not to call anyone while driving. Visions of a screaming headline in the OC Register "MAN DIES WHILE DRIVING TO CLAIM FATHER'S BODY" popped into my head.
Then it dawned on me that this was going to be the last bit of time to myself for a long time. Relatives would be coming into town. Friends would be checking on me. My father's friends were going to want to know what was going on. I had about 25 minutes to think hard about what I needed to do next. Here's the list I came up with:
1. Take care of my younger brother, Number 2.
2. Contact a funeral home and make arrangements for my Dad's remains.
3. Make sure that his home was secure.
4. Tell my wife - who was out of the state - what had just happened.
Driving back to Long Beach that night was like a countdown to reality. It really felt like my Dad wasn't really dead until I pulled up to his place and saw for myself. I had been in Long Beach earlier in the day and had a great time at the Aquarium with my Mom and my daughter (we call her Chicken). But with dusk approaching and knowing what I was driving to, Long Beach didn't look very fun anymore.
I exited the freeway and weaved through the streets of my childhood. I went the back way to my Dad's house driving past rows of duplexs that were built in the 1950's. Too many people are living in them today. Either that or the occupants simply have too many cars because parking is a bitch. I make a right and turn onto my Dad's street.
There's a police car out in front.
My brother is talking with a cop and some other people. And inside the house that I grew up in, my father is on the floor of the living room in a small pool of his own blood.
I pulled over and parked. Things started to get very real very fast.
VW
I started to get angry about the traffic but I realized my Dad wasn't going anywhere...at least not without my signature. I thumbed my cell phone but decided not to call anyone while driving. Visions of a screaming headline in the OC Register "MAN DIES WHILE DRIVING TO CLAIM FATHER'S BODY" popped into my head.
Then it dawned on me that this was going to be the last bit of time to myself for a long time. Relatives would be coming into town. Friends would be checking on me. My father's friends were going to want to know what was going on. I had about 25 minutes to think hard about what I needed to do next. Here's the list I came up with:
1. Take care of my younger brother, Number 2.
2. Contact a funeral home and make arrangements for my Dad's remains.
3. Make sure that his home was secure.
4. Tell my wife - who was out of the state - what had just happened.
Driving back to Long Beach that night was like a countdown to reality. It really felt like my Dad wasn't really dead until I pulled up to his place and saw for myself. I had been in Long Beach earlier in the day and had a great time at the Aquarium with my Mom and my daughter (we call her Chicken). But with dusk approaching and knowing what I was driving to, Long Beach didn't look very fun anymore.
I exited the freeway and weaved through the streets of my childhood. I went the back way to my Dad's house driving past rows of duplexs that were built in the 1950's. Too many people are living in them today. Either that or the occupants simply have too many cars because parking is a bitch. I make a right and turn onto my Dad's street.
There's a police car out in front.
My brother is talking with a cop and some other people. And inside the house that I grew up in, my father is on the floor of the living room in a small pool of his own blood.
I pulled over and parked. Things started to get very real very fast.
VW
posted by JVW at 9:47 PM
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