The Return of the Commander

I woke up to the Chicken smacking me in the face.

Galaxy Girl had gotten her out of her crib and the Chicken is going through a bit of a hitting phase. Smacking me in the face is making her laugh really hard.

We fed the Chicken while I started on my first Mountain Dew of the day. Galaxy Girl wasn't going to stick around much longer but both of my in-laws would be over soon so there would be somebody here to watch the Chicken while me and my father-in-law go to John Wayne Airport to pick her up.

As I waited for the time to pass, I couldn't help but think about how much the Commander meant to me.

She doesn't know it but I am in awe of her.

I could list a string of adjectives describing how wonderful she really is but they would only embarrass her.

She may not be perfect...but she's perfect for me.

We've been together since the end of summer in 1993 and has been the person that I wanted to share everything with ever since.

It wasn't quite love at first sight...but it was pretty darn close. I knew from the beginning that we would someday get married and start our own family. Three had been the magic number for the Chicken, the Commander, and I. But maybe it was time to think about having another baby? I wonder if the Commander was having similar thoughts?

I table that thought as my father-in-law drives us to the airport. We will get there 90 minutes before the Commander's plane lands.

The drive over is uneventful but he gets excited once we are inside the airport terminal. This guy LOVES airports. I don't understand what he likes about them. Maybe it's because you can be witness to friends and family being reunited? People are really happy to see each other at the airport. You don't see too many folks getting off an airplane and immediately getting into a fight with the person that's there to pick him up.

We position ourselves directly across from the gate that the Commander's plane will be pulling up to. My father-in-law inspects our vantage point like a first-time director might block a scene before rolling film.

As with many events on the Commander's side of the family, this one will also be videotaped by my father-in-law.

Minutes peel off the clock and I'm getting antsy. I'm always nervous about plane landings and I stare at the arrival monitors to confirm that her flight still reads "On Time."

Finally, I see her plane.

I'm waiting for the gate doors to open.

My father-in-law tells me that he's going to go hide at baggage claim to capture some candid moments on tape.

The gate doors open and the passengers start to spill out.

The Commander won't be one of the first out. She'll wait for others to make a dash for it. She's known for being a little clumsy and after a long flight, she'll need to take it easy.

Although I'm some distance away, I can see a woman exiting the gate wearing what appears to be a blue flight suit.

The Commander didn't wear her flight suit on the ride home, did she?

I squint in an attempt to get a closer look and it's a negative. That's not the Commander wearing the flight suit. It appears to be the other teacher from Orange County that went.

But during those seconds that I was squinting, I miss the Commander coming out of the gate. She's back!

She doesn't see me and starts heading the opposite way from where I thought she'd be going. Damn it! She's going straight to baggage claim.

I change course and head down to baggage claim too so I can catch up with her.

I pop off the stairs and there she is. She finally sees me.

I watch her expression change as she sees me. She doesn't have to say a word because she's telling me everything that I need to know with just a look.

It's "I'm sorry about your dad" and "It's going to be okay."

I get closer to her and I realize that while she's not wearing her flight suit, she has picked up a new shirt to wear home.

It's a black t-shirt with Bert and Ernie on it.

I'm close enough to finally get what I've wanted for 3 days. We embrace and everything in the airport blurs for me.

it is just the Commander and I.

"I wanted to put a smile on your face the moment you saw me," she said referring to her shirt.

I am smiling but it isn't because of the shirt.

VW

The 30-Second Hack

I got home from work and for some reason it felt like someone had hacked into my life with the 30-second advance that you can program into your Tivo remote.

My Mom was there and then she went home to San Diego.

My father-in-law was there but then he disappeared with the Chicken and put her to bed.

Cops was on...and then it wasn't.

I'm unable to focus on anything.

The phone rings and it's Galaxy Girl - the Commander's best friend for more that 25 years...she's also been a great friend to me since we met 12 years ago. She's going to come over and is willing to bring anything that I want.

I just ask for Pringles and Mountain Dew. I also ask her if she can spend the night.

The 30-second advance starts all over again.

The Chicken is asleep and my father-in-law comes back to the living room. We chat for a while. He doesn't want to leave me alone. Once Galaxy Girl is here, he'll take off.

My father-in-law is not normally a very chatty guy and normally we can sit in silence without it being uncomfortable. It is probably one of the few things we have in common, neither one of us talks if we do not have anything to say.

Galaxy Girl arrives and that frees my father-in-law. He takes off after we confirm plans to pick up the Commander at the airport tomorrow.

I start of three-hour conversation with Galaxy Girl that bounces around a variety of topics, including my father's passing. She lets me talk about what I want to talk about when I want to talk about it. I've always enjoyed talking with her.

I remember the first time that my dad had met Galaxy Girl. My dad had called her a "stunning young woman" and I've never shared that with either her or the Commander.

I didn't want either one of them to think my dad was weird.

We catch up on other details of our lives. The funny things that the Chicken will do everyday. The latest on Galaxy Girl's job and her upcoming trip to Egypt. It's nice to be able to talk about the normal stuff too.

It's past midnight and the conversation is starting to dwindle down. I'm going to sleep on the couch and Galaxy Girl sleeps on the Commander's side of the bed.

So that's my day after someone turned on the 30-Second hack. I only wish I could grab the controls of time and rewind about 5 days so I could have that last conversation with my dad again.

VW

Work/Death Balance

After leaving Long Beach, I had to make a quick stop at work before relieving my Mom of Chicken duty.

I had forgotten that I had intended on completing a small project for a senior manager before my vacation was up. Now that I was going to be heading to at least a week of bereavement leave, I KNEW I absolutely HAD to stop in and quickly complete said assignment.

It was late Saturday afternoon when I got to my cubicle. I was hoping that I could avoid detection and not have to talk with anyone. I felt like a downed power line and I didn't want to send my pain through "work friends" right now.

I was just about finished with my assignment when I heard two people from my department heading down the hallway. I was hoping that I stopped typing in time and they would continue right past my cube. Their conversation came to a halt and I looked up to see a couple of people that were very shocked to see me a work.

As much as I was dreading the conversation, it turned out to be okay.

I didn't lose it.

I was able to talk about what has been happening with me.

And there weren't too many awkward-boy-I'm-sorry-your-dad-died-moments.

I ended the conversation so I could get my assignment complete. I saved the file and sent it in an email to the senior manager that I owed it to.

I tried to imagine the senior manager's reaction to seeing an email from me that had so obviously been sent after my father had passed. Sure, it was work that I had committed to...but I don't think anyone would have held it against me if I blew it off given the current situation.

I thought I'd might get at least a "thank you" for doing that.

It's now been two months since I completed this assignment, I'm officially done waiting for the thank you.

VW

The Obit

As a teenager, I had always envisioned growing up being some type of reporter. Preferably, a sports reporter covering a baseball team. I took journalism classes from 7th to 12th grade and continued to take them as I started college. Eventually though, I steered (okay...more likely I veered) away from writing for a newspaper and headed down a path that has taken me today to the Training & Development world.

Now the first thing that I will write for my hometown newspaper will be my father's obituary.

I left the funeral home and started to drive back to my house in Orange. But before I had to make the decision to get on the 91 East, I decided instead to head back to my dad's duplex in Long Beach. It wasn't a split-second decision either. Long Beach had developed a gravitational pull that I could no longer resist.

One of the issues with the funeral home left unresolved was the obituary so I decided to use my dad's computer to write it.

I pulled up to the duplex and brushed the ghosts of memories away from me as I entered. Everything that I can remember happening to me in this house is now constantly exploding in my head like a fireworks show on the 4th of July.

I head back into his computer room. It was the bedroom that I shared with Number 2 until I was 6.

Powering up his computer, I noticed a letter Dr. Mike. Dr. Mike is a cardiac specialist whose last name starts with a K and then has every letter in the alphabet in it at least once. Hence, he goes by Dr. Mike.

The letter was from December of 2004 and is a summary of my dad's last check up 6 months ago. There's one line in the letter that hits me like a ton of bricks - "It was good to speak with you and hear that you are in such a good place in your life."

I still don't know if I should be happy that my dad was in a good place when he passed or bummed that he didn't get to enjoy that good place for a little longer.

I pulled up the web site of the paper that I was going to run the obit in. I wasn't really sure what I was going to write or how I was going to write it. We nevered covered obits in 12th grade Journalism.

I flashed back to what my high school teacher, Bernice Whiteleather, would have said to me - "VW, K.I.S.S. - Keep it simple, stupid!"

In the end, that's exactly what I did. I wrote who he was, when he was born, when he died, what he did in life, and who he left behind.

It seemed like I had only been there for a few minutes but when I checked the clock on the computer, I had been there for almost 3 hours. I needed to get back home. My Mom had been watching the Chicken all day and she needed to get back home to San Diego.

The Chicken had been a source of great comfort but I really wanted somebody there that I could talk to tonight.

I'm sure that I'm not going to be the best company but how do you tell your family and friends that you don't want to be alone?

VW

A Tomb with a View - Conclusion

The Sales Counselor left Number 2 and I alone in her office while she made some copies all of the paperwork generated by our visit there.

I looked down at Number 2's shoes and he had tracked in a truckload of freshly cut grass from our earlier visit to my dad's future grave site.

"Nice going, Number 2," I said as I point out his mess. He has always had a "Pigpen" quality about him. Today was no exception.

"It's not my fault that they just cut their grass," Number 2 said sheepishly.

The Sales Counselor came back in, handing me a copy of all of the paperwork, and asked if we had anymore questions.

"When do we give you the clothes that he will be buried in?" I asked.

She directed me to a small office at the entrance. It was like a coat check room...but nobody ever got these clothes back.

I thanked the Sales Counselor for her time and Number 2 and I went back to my car to get my dad's clothes. I had brought with me two Hawaiian shirts, two pairs of slacks, a package of his underwear, his stinky Vans, and a pair of new Vans. Why I brought two of everything, I have no idea.

I opened up the car door and got hit with a smell that can only be described as funky. It took about two seconds to realize what stunk up the car. Two hours in the hot July sun had caused the stinky Vans to ripen. The smell was overpowering.

"Number 2, I can't give these shoes to them!"

"Give them to me. I throw them in the back of my truck and figure out what to do with them."

What a relief! I wouldn't want to take those shoes home but I also didn't want to just toss them. They had become a symbol of my dad's brief retirement. We had made fun of him for not getting new shoes for a while. It was ridiculous that he still was wearing them. But now that he was gone, those shoes became awfully important to both me and Number 2.

We walked back to the small office and turned in the clothes that we wanted him buried in. A young latina girl gave me a receipt and told me to have a nice day. There's just got to be a better platitude for this situation.

Number 2 and I headed back to our cars. He was going to head out to the River and see my Grandparents for the first time since my dad had passed. He was also taking all of my dad's guns out to our uncle's. I was still a day away from the Commander returning home. I told him to call me if anything goes on if he needed to talk.

It hit me right then. Over the course of the last two days, I had called Number 2 so many times that I now had it memorized.

Why does it take my dad's death to get me to memorize my brother's phone number?

VW

A Tomb with a View - part three

Number 2 and I are led back into the "arrangements center" and our guide leaves us with his condolences and lets us know that another sales counselor will be with us shortly to help us with the decide on the memorial services.

It only takes a few minutes before she arrives. The sales counselor is probably ten years older than me and she offers her condolences with a detached coolness and a pinch of genuine concern. It's JUST enough to make you think that your situation might be special.

When head back to her office (which looks an awful lot like the previous office we where in) and begin to play a whole new round of Death Madlibs.

After 15 minutes of questions, the topic once again turns to how much we want to spend on the funeral and the memorial services.

It's a subject that continues to be a touchy one for both Number 2 and I. We know that our Dad wanted zero spent on this. He often said that he would like to be taken out to the desert with a beach chair, a bottle of good scotch, and a shotgun if we ever found him close to death.

It was clear that we weren't getting out of there without dropping a chunk of change, that's when I told her that we wanted to be as frugal as possible.

She then shared with me that they did have some "economic" offerings and proceeded to pull out a small pamphlet for my review. I flipped the pages and really couldn't believe what I was reading.

It was the death equivalent to the Extra Value Meal at McDonald's.

We had four choices - Economy ($6k), Heritage ($7k), Signature ($8k), and SkyRose ($11k). My dad's wish of us not spending any money had pretty much vanished.

Number 2 and I looked at the packages and decided pretty quickly on the Heritage package. The Heritage package locks you into a choice of three or four caskets but our counselor pointed out an issue with this caskets. My dad was a pretty big guy (bigger than me for those of you that know me) and because of his size, we were going to have to pay more for a casket then we otherwise would have.

This really WAS like an Extra Value Meal...and we were going to Super Size it.

With Number 2 and I keeping with the mantra - "spend as little as possible," the counselor began to present our options.

"This casket is $500 more than this one but there is an issue with the more economic casket. If you choose the more economic casket, we will not be able to place your father's arms at rest. They will be crossed."

Something about how she said this immediately angered me. Was she telling us that our father wouldn't be at rest because we wanted to go with the cheaper casket? I was stunned and it felt like hours before Number 2 broke the silence.

"Look. Will you guys be able to put him in this casket, close the lid, and bury him?"

Now it was the sales counselor's turn to be stunned.

"Why, yes. Of course we will."

"Than that's the casket we're buying."

Number 2 had not said a whole lot over the course of the last two days. It was almost if he was saving up for that moment. All of the anger that had suddenly built up within me disappeared in an instant.

There was few other things to take care of - Who was going to be the officiant at the ceremony? Who would write the obituary? What did we want to put on his grave marker?

But there was one question that we definitely did not know the answer to.

"How many people are you expecting to attend your father's services?"

Number 2 and I looked at each other with the same blank expression.

We honestly had no idea.

It could be anywhere from 30 to 300 people.

And then I started to get a little nervous. What happens when you throw a memorial service and nobody shows up?

My dad had retired suddenly from his job at the end of February. I don't know the whole story but I do know that he was forced out after 39 years of service. He never told me but it did hurt his feelings quite a bit....until he realized that he was going to make more money in retirement than he would of if he stayed at his job. Someday, I'll find out the whole story. I'm not ready to hear it now.

We told the counselor to plan for 300 at the services and 150 for the reception. It was going to be on a Thursday and not every one can leave work for something like this.

Finally, we were ready to talk about payment. I was familiar enough with my dad's assets to know that paying for this wasn't going to be an issue. But we hadn't spoken with my dad's attorney and we didn't want to touch his accounts yet.

For some reason earlier this summer, I had applied for and received a new BofA Visa. I hadn't used for anything so we decided to put all of the charges on that.

There's something very strange about maxing out a credit card with a five digit credit line on a single purchase.

As the counselor ran the credit card, I had a flash of what my dad would have said in a situation like this.

"It's only money."

VW

A Tomb with a View - part two

The perfectly manicured greenbelts stretched as far as our eyes could see as the sales counselor drove Number 2 and I to two potential sites for my father's burial.

At a couple of the graves, people have beach chairs and appear to be spending time with those that had passed. Floral arrangements and pinwheels dot the hillside. I can't imagine that we will ever do any of these things. This may be the only time I visit the gravesite.

We park at the first site and walk down a 40 degree angle to where there are some available plots. The sales counselor keeps taking about how he just has a bunch of "singles" in this area. It takes me a while to figure out that he's telling us that if we want to be buried with our father, it won't be possible here. I shake my head in disgust. I don't know if he's paid on commission but there is only going to be one sale here today.

We head back to the mini-van and all of us have trouble getting back up this hill. It does have a great vista but if my grandparents ever want to come out here, they definitely won't be able to make it. We need to check out the other site.

There's only one single left in the next site. It will have a view of three lakes that are being built. It is also right on a corner of the lot. If we wanted to, we could pull right up to this site. We could even just drive by and drop off flowers during a Chinese fire drill.

It is perfect.

Number 2 agrees and we become land owners in Whittier, CA.

VW