This picture greeted me this morning.
- Cardinals may signify spiritual growth and new beginnings.
- They may be harbingers of strength and friendship.
- Female cardinals may indicate transformation is on the horizon. Try to maintain an open mind and heart: whatever change is in the air is divinely ordained.
(Murphy, 2023).
Daddy's Girl tattoo by Ken Cuccaro. My dad loved it.
One of the few times that his failing memory worked in everyone's favor: every spring/summer, the first time I put on shorts, that tattoo would be new to him and it made him happy.*Every single time.*
and the text I took out of the Facebook comments...
_____1/5/2024 I can't believe it's been eight years since that morning... I heard Allan's ringtone (Grover, of course). Got the news. I think my response was something like, "That's not possible. I saw him the day before yesterday." Stumbled out of the office to meet the funeral director.
P. arranged necessary flights. Andee brought Allan and me drinks while we wrote Daddy's eulogy together. The Rabbi loved it, later told me that he'd never forget some of our anecdotes.
My brother and I *kicked ass* "taking care of business" (with the help of the people who love us the moistest).
Harry, ya done good.
Which is why we were able to do ya proud.
ETA #1: His birthday was 1/6. I'd picked up his birthday card, and prints of photos of his granddaughters, on my way to work. I like to think that his last glimpse of Earth (cuz I don't know how that ascent works) was of me choosing his card, and was reminded of how much I love him...
ETA #2 I only remember bits and pieces of the subsequent 24 hours, like Jimmy (funeral director) saying it was okay if I needed to smoke (I didn't), and stopping proceedings until I called my husband - I wanted Andee so much, but didn't want to bug him at work. (Jimmy was right. At least he's familiar with ingrained Jewish Mother Guilt.) He wouldn't begin again until I messaged a few people on Facebook to ask for help spreading the funeral details... Dad's Honorable Discharge papers (all of his papers, actually) were lost in Hurricane Sandy, yet Jimmy finagled a flag for Daddy, like I think he would have wanted. Called my boss at my second job, to call out of work during Shiva. And I went to the nursing home at some point, to kiss my dad good-bye. I don't know how I got there, or got home.
I remember Rose (my manicurist) being kind enough to squeeze me in to Dremel off my black and bright blue gel polish right before the funeral. (I loved Rose already. I think that was the day it became unconditional.) The funeral almost didn't happen because of a clerical error that the nursing home said they couldn't fix... until Jimmy said something along the lines of sending me over to take care of business... the error was fixed and delivered by courier within the hour. (They must have figured that they didn't want to deal with me again. A month or so later, they were inspected - and fined - and it's not the "last laugh" because my dad suffering was no laughing matter...)
Mary and Doug made were at the cemetery before I got there. I knew they'd be there come hell or high water. (My dad remembered to ask about them often, even when he forgot the names of someone who should have been more present.) Janey drove up, which would have pleased my dad. My sister Jennifer, another person who had a fan in my dad, made it to the funeral - even though she was only in town to pick up her daughter Maria, who'd just returned from Afghanistan. I didn't expect to see them until later. (I talk about that often... so proud of our Mia and her service!)
Our friends and family had the Harrises' backs, as always.
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