The Longest Night - conclusion
I've stayed up all night plenty of times in my life. Sometimes it was waiting in line for concert tickets (I got 8th row at the Rose Bowl for Music for the Masses in 1988!). Sometimes it was running up and down the Las Vegas strip. But I've never really had to deal with any type of insomnia before tonight.
There was still some time left before I felt comfortable calling the Commander. Instead of calling her, I started to leave voicemails for people at work. I was still on vacation but I was scheduled to return to work after the weekend. I knew that wasn't going to be possible. I was starting to wonder if returning to work was ever going to be possible.
I ended up only calling one person at work. I know that she'll tell everyone that might need to know what is happening. I don't even know what I said. I'm now to the point were I don't care if people see or hear me cry. Grief is now less of an emotion and more like physical pain. I feel like a cartoon character that has been shot with a cannon so that all can see right through their cartoon stomach.
It's time to call the Commander. She picks up on the third ring.
"What's going on?" she says.
Words stop working for me. They come out of my mouth but the syntax is all screwed up. I must sound like Yoda ("Dead he is my father").
"Commander. My father passed away last night."
"Are you joking with me?" the Commander screamed.
"No. I'm not."
The Commander surprised me when she started to cry. She is definitely closer to my mom than my dad but since the Chicken was born, my dad had become a weekly guest at our house on Sundays. I guess she had warmed up to him much more than I realized because of those visits.
"I was just with him on Wednesday!" she sobbed.
My Dad had taken the Chicken and the Commander out to by phones for all of us the previous Wednesday. I had never owned a cell phone myself and both of them had made fun of me for it the last Sunday that he came over.
"Do you want me to come home?" she asked.
I didn't. She was having the time of her life at Space Camp and getting paid to go to boot. Plus, my dad thought it was the coolest thing ever and couldn't wait to hear about it and see pictures.
"Do you think he saw the picture of me in my flight suit? I sent it to him yesterday."
I didn't have the heart to tell her that I was pretty sure he never saw it. She would figure that out upon her return.
I told her that I had been up all night and how tired I was. Besides being the Commander, she is also my little residential pharmacist. I knew she had something that I could take that would help me sleep but I didn't know where it was or what it was even called.
She let me cry some more - even though I was sounding like Sloth from the Goonies as I attempted to speak through the tears.
And then she had to go.
I told her to try to enjoy her time there. It is truly what my dad would have wanted.
She told me that she loved me and I told her the same. I couldn't wait to have her back.
Our phone call ended around 5:30 in the morning. I rolled over to her side of our bed and finally fell into a dreamless sleep.
VW
There was still some time left before I felt comfortable calling the Commander. Instead of calling her, I started to leave voicemails for people at work. I was still on vacation but I was scheduled to return to work after the weekend. I knew that wasn't going to be possible. I was starting to wonder if returning to work was ever going to be possible.
I ended up only calling one person at work. I know that she'll tell everyone that might need to know what is happening. I don't even know what I said. I'm now to the point were I don't care if people see or hear me cry. Grief is now less of an emotion and more like physical pain. I feel like a cartoon character that has been shot with a cannon so that all can see right through their cartoon stomach.
It's time to call the Commander. She picks up on the third ring.
"What's going on?" she says.
Words stop working for me. They come out of my mouth but the syntax is all screwed up. I must sound like Yoda ("Dead he is my father").
"Commander. My father passed away last night."
"Are you joking with me?" the Commander screamed.
"No. I'm not."
The Commander surprised me when she started to cry. She is definitely closer to my mom than my dad but since the Chicken was born, my dad had become a weekly guest at our house on Sundays. I guess she had warmed up to him much more than I realized because of those visits.
"I was just with him on Wednesday!" she sobbed.
My Dad had taken the Chicken and the Commander out to by phones for all of us the previous Wednesday. I had never owned a cell phone myself and both of them had made fun of me for it the last Sunday that he came over.
"Do you want me to come home?" she asked.
I didn't. She was having the time of her life at Space Camp and getting paid to go to boot. Plus, my dad thought it was the coolest thing ever and couldn't wait to hear about it and see pictures.
"Do you think he saw the picture of me in my flight suit? I sent it to him yesterday."
I didn't have the heart to tell her that I was pretty sure he never saw it. She would figure that out upon her return.
I told her that I had been up all night and how tired I was. Besides being the Commander, she is also my little residential pharmacist. I knew she had something that I could take that would help me sleep but I didn't know where it was or what it was even called.
She let me cry some more - even though I was sounding like Sloth from the Goonies as I attempted to speak through the tears.
And then she had to go.
I told her to try to enjoy her time there. It is truly what my dad would have wanted.
She told me that she loved me and I told her the same. I couldn't wait to have her back.
Our phone call ended around 5:30 in the morning. I rolled over to her side of our bed and finally fell into a dreamless sleep.
VW
posted by JVW at 7:26 PM
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