They say there is no right or wrong way to grieve the loss of a loved one. For me, it helps to write, talk and just keep busy. If I just sit there or lay around doing nothing my mind goes off on a tangent as reality tries to set itself in on the fact that I will never see my father again. I will never hear his voice again. I will never call him again and hear his chipper, “Jodi Lin!” at the sound of my voice.

The nightmare began with a rather “rude awakening.” Tom woke me up at 10:00 this morning. He said my mother had been trying to reach me and had left a couple of messages on the old phone. Why that one, IDK, but she’s not exactly with it these days.

In a dubious tone of voice, Tom said, “She said it was very important you call her back. I think your father might have died by the sound of her voice. She sounds really disoriented and keeps calling for Tammy before she remembers you’re Jodi, and one of the calls sounds like there are hospital sounds in the background.”

My mind instantly rejected this idea, of course, and I fought to calm my heartbeat down. It felt like it was going to jump out of my chest because Tom’s unexpected wake-up call (though I would’ve woken up within the next hour or so), had scared the shit out of me. “But I just talked to him a few weeks ago,” I said, at first thinking I’d last talked to him earlier this month when in fact it was last month, thanks to the fact that my brain doesn’t work right anymore. “He sounded so much better. He had just finished my book and said it was good and everything was just fine.”

But it wasn’t. His heart had worsened over the last couple of years, and this year was really bad. Yesterday morning, after a two-week stay in the hospital which I wasn’t even aware of, he passed peacefully in his sleep.

Both my brother and sister are with my mom now, and regardless of my feelings towards them in the past or the present, I was glad to know this. I appreciate them helping her out since I’m not only helpless being stuck on the other side of the country, but I would be pretty helpless even if I was right there with her since I can’t drive. There just wouldn’t be much I could do that can’t be done over the phone like me being a shoulder for her to cry on if she needs one. So I don’t have any hard feelings about not being notified sooner, I know it’s what Dad would’ve wanted just as Mom said, and I’m only a phone call away. What’s most important is that she has people who can drive her where she needs to go and do things like fetch groceries.

I don’t know why but she had me speak to both Tammy and Larry. It was only for a minute, but we were “polite” to each other. I’ll admit it’s kind of hard to picture Larry and Tammy in the same room together without killing each other, but what’s most important is that they’re there for Mom and are able to give her the kind of help I couldn’t give her. Tom couldn’t possibly take time off from work and I couldn’t take off by myself and be of any real help to her, mostly since I can’t drive, but she was quick to point out that she knows and understands this. I didn’t even have to say anything. But like I said, I can help in the ways that are within my means of doing so and that’s just by giving my emotional support.

I guess Tammy flew down alone but Larry has a friend with him. I asked Mom if it was Carl and she said, “No, you’re going back too many years.”

For a handful of reasons I probably won’t be attending the funeral which I’m guessing will be in Massachusetts and not Florida, and I can tell you right now, if anyone reading this even thinks of telling me that’s “messed up” or that I’m “wrong” for this, I’ll never talk to you again. I don’t need any judgment or criticism right now. My family and I have discussed this before and it is between us and us only. If I write about my reasons it will simply be because I chose to write about them and not because I feel the need to explain myself to anyone who may feel the need to tell me that my way of doing and handling things is wrong simply because they may be unhappy with their own lives. Just giving you fair warning, is all, but if I’m jumping the gun and no one had any intentions of feeling the need to “correct” me in the first place, then I apologize.

It hasn’t hit me yet. I’m still in shock. The news was so unexpected and totally caught me off guard. I had not one single dream warning me of his death. Not one.

I told Tom that a few years ago I asked Dad to beam back any signs to me if there was any kind of an afterlife, even though I knew it would probably scare the shit out of me. “Maybe there’s absolutely nothing after death,” I told Tom, “and that’s why I haven’t gotten any signs.”

But Tom doesn’t believe that. “Remember last fall when we were pushed to the brink of absolutely nothing with seemingly no way out whatsoever, and then something stepped in at the very last second and saved us? Well, if it wasn’t our loved ones, then who was it? And that’s not the first time it happened.”

That’s a good question and perhaps we’ll never know for sure. I had assumed it was a hateful God of some kind tormenting us with our survival that only saved us in the end right as we were about to fall off the cliff so it could give us a break for a while and then have fun tormenting us all over again.

I don’t have all the answers, but I always did say the timing was 100% miraculous. Just so in the nick of time. We were hanging by less than a thread. To say it’s a coincidence doesn’t seem right, but who/what it was that saved us is beyond me.

I read the online obituary and it mentions him having a great-grandchild. That’s got to be from my brother’s daughter cuz I don’t think my sister’s kids have kids. I’d hope not anyway. They’re still a little young, I think.

Again, I’m just shocked. He was 80 years old and I really thought he had another 3-5 years left in him. A part of me wishes they hadn’t had me so late in life because then I could’ve had them around till I was in my 50s like Tammy and Larry, instead of my 40s. Getting used to the idea of not having him in my life (and probably not even a mother within the next few years if even that), is going to take some time.

“Why didn’t I have any dreams about it?” I wondered to Tom.

“Maybe because it was simply his time.”

Maybe so, but I was right about one thing. When they left after visiting us in Phoenix in the late 90s, I knew I would never see them again. I don’t know if it was due to the geographical distance and because Mom won’t fly, but somehow I just knew it.

I haven’t seen much of my folks since I was 15 years old and so I was used to not seeing much of them. But the news I got this morning was totally unexpected just the same.

Despite our past problems, I feel so bad for my mom. She’s got to be utterly miserable now. I know I would be if I suddenly lost Tom and we haven’t even been married 20 years yet, so I can just imagine how she must feel after 62 years of marriage. I wonder what will become of Mom. Will she stay where she is? Go live with a friend or a relative? In an assisted living program?

It’s taking me forever to write this. I have to stop and lie down and rest my head and my eyes periodically. I can’t focus for long on anything right now. Keeping busy helps and writing helps, but I need to lie down at times, too. The only thing is that every time I lay down my mind drives me crazy. My head feels like it’s under a million pounds of pressure. My vision is so blurry due to crying on and off all day (I was too stunned to cry much at first) but my mind is racing and it just won’t stop! I write several sentences, and then I stop and find myself staring blankly at nothing, slowly rocking back and forth in this chair.

Funny how life works out at times. Just recently I was posting on the wall of one of my VH sisters who had just lost their own dad. Little did I expect to post a link to my own dad’s obit just days later. Another friend’s dad has been so ill that I expected her to mention him passing away any second, but again, life just works out strangely at times. Both of Nane’s parents are still alive yet she’s 5 years older than me. Tom’s mom is still alive at age 88 and while he’ll always feel a sense of connection to her since she’s his mom, she turned out to be a horrible person who did some horrible things to her own son and his wife, thus proving that the nicer people seem to die younger. Okay, so my dad may not have been perfect any more than the rest of us, but he was an overall nice guy and he shouldn’t have died less than two months shy of turning 81. I don’t get it. I just don’t get it. Alison and I have wondered why she would get cancer after trying to be a good person while things always seem to go well for trolls like Molly even if they’re too ungrateful and unappreciative to see just how good they’ve got it.

I was thinking to myself recently that it was nice that my parents got to live long enough to read one of my current books as opposed to the shit I’d crank out a decade or more ago. I wasn’t always a good writer or singer. I’m glad he got to see me become a published author even if I never make much money at it, but as my husband pointed out, money isn’t always a true measure of success. Either way, it’s sad that he’ll never be able to read another book of mine.

Back again after having to stop yet again. Thanks to those who’ve given their condolences. I may not be around as much for a few days but I appreciate it just the same. And even Alison’s attempt to get me to laugh about the troll who’s still up to her usual crazy shit. I guess she got back online from Josh’s friend’s place and she’s going back and forth as always, one minute saying she misses Alison and wants to be pen pals with her, the next badmouthing her and saying she wants nothing more to do with her. Oh, and she and Loverboy have already had a fight over money but are doing “somewhat” good together even though she “kind of” misses home. I’m surprised she’s applying for jobs within walking distance of the apartment building she’s living in because she’s always seemed so lazy, but then again, Josh isn’t going to support her like her folks did until she’s back home in a few weeks.

Random memories of Dad go through my mind. I would get so excited when he’d take me out to buy new records, and of course vinyl records were the thing back in the 70s.

When I was around 8 he took me to my favorite radio station. I got to meet the DJ who gave me a tour of the place and showed me how he could quickly find any given record I named off, dazzling me with such amazing delight as Dad recorded the little venture with one of those old tape recorders. I felt like a special little princess that day, even though I didn’t know back then that the radio folks were obliged to give these tours to just about anyone, LOL.

And now he’s gone and… ugh… I still can’t believe it. It just hasn’t hit home yet. God, I’ll miss him!

Where are you, daddy? Are you really able to look down upon those you left behind? Have you reunited with your own dad and others? Or is there really just utter and total nothingness? I just hope to hell it’s nothing worse than here. It can only be better, worse or the same, and while we’d like to believe it’s better, no one can really know for sure.

For the longest time, I believed one’s spirit could simply float about the earth anywhere it wanted to go and peek in on anyone it wanted to. Then one day I pulled back and thought about it from a scientific standpoint. We need a brain in order to think and for our senses to work. But if that brain is dead, then how can we have a sense of awareness and knowledge after death in order to “look in” on those we love??? Really, I just don’t know what to think or believe anymore. I just hope that if he’s somehow lived on he is at peace and that he’s in a much better place than he ever was when he was alive.

I’m just glad my siblings are helping Mom in ways I’m unable to, and of course I can’t help but think of when our own time comes. I have absolutely no regrets whatsoever about not having kids, but boy are we so screwed in the end. Unless we’re both killed suddenly someday like in a car accident, there will be no one to take care of us in the end. I worry for Tom when he gets to where he can no longer drive and little Miss Driving Phobia here can’t take over the wheel, but he said that’s nothing and that’s what Dial-a-Ride is for. Man, it sucks either way. I want to be the one to die first so I don’t have to suffer the pain of losing him, but if I suddenly could know that I would indeed die first, then I’d only go on to worry about who will be there for him in the end and I definitely don’t like the idea of him dying alone. But as Tom says, this is many years away, even if I do worry about these things regularly enough.

In the midst of my grief, I messaged Nane about Dad’s death but I don’t expect a reply. She’ll probably think I’m just “messing” with her anyway.

Mom also said something about some package she’s sending, but I don’t know what she’s talking about. Maybe it has to do with a keepsake of sorts. IDK, I’m just so damn drained right now both physically and emotionally. Things had been going so well and I was all psyched to get up, cook spaghetti, pig out on junk, and just enjoy the weekend with my husband. Well, I’ve done some laundry just to keep my mind occupied, but I’m certainly not up to cooking and I don’t have much of an appetite at all.

Nor do I have the tolerance for all-night barking like what we got last night in the state of mind I’m in right now. Therefore I’ve got all the sound machines on to keep from going up there and not just killing those damn mutts, but also waiting for him to return from wherever just so I can break him in half. The last thing I need to do is listen to Jesse and his fucking dogs while mourning the loss of my father.

It just hit me that they’re probably going to bury him in Florida and not Massachusetts. I had always thought, for some reason, that they would be buried up north in the same cemetery as my grandparents, but then I realized a few things. My mom is not only afraid of flying, but they wouldn’t be talking to me on the phone from Florida on a Saturday if they were going to bury him up north on Monday. Also, they not only like Florida better than Massachusetts, but most of their friends and family up north have either died or moved out of the state, so there’s no real reason for them to be buried there. Another reason they may not move my dad up north is because of some of the Jewish traditions such as the fact that he cannot be embalmed, but I was too blown away with shock and grief to ask my mother these nitty-gritty details and I didn’t think it was appropriate at the time either.

My head hurts, my eyes burn, and my nose is stuffed up. I’ve got to go lay down. I’ll post this some other time.

I looked at both Sandy and Jennifer’s profiles. Jen is single and looks nothing like Tammy’s kids. She’s quite lovely - tall, slim - and you would never guess by looking at her that she had a kid. The kid isn’t pictured on her profile in any place I can see it, but Sandy is pictured with what appears to be an 8-10-year-old boy. My first thought was that it was kind of sad (one should live and learn a while before giving up life to kids) that Jen had a kid at what was probably only between 20-22 since she’s now around 30, but from what I remember of her and as young as she was, I think she would make a very good mom, unlike Tammy’s kids. But knowing what Tammy’s kids look like, well, I’d say they’re not going to have an easy time getting anyone. They seem more into the career scene anyway. But… even if Jen won’t be able to go far or do much in life for a while till the kid’s older, I can easily see her being a great mother and she can “catch up on life” later on down the road. She seems like she may be some kind of nurse.