Wednesday, July 8, 2009

September 2, 2007 (Part Two, 2/11/09)

There are moments in your life where you know that everything from this point forward changes. September 2, 2007 had one of those moments.

It was a Sunday morning. Friends of ours had gotten married the night before and Brent and I were talking about the wedding. She looked so beautiful, he looked so happy, it was a gorgeous ceremony. Another favorite friend of mine had come in to town for the wedding and I got to spend time with her which always makes me happy. I was in the last 3 weeks of my third term in school and a classmate was on her way over to do an exchange for homework. Brent was in the shower and then the phone rang.

I would like to say it was an ominous ring, or I knew something was wrong, or anything that makes the moment seem more than it was, but honestly, it was a ringing cell phone. At first I thought it was my classmate asking for directions to the house, I glanced quickly at the caller ID and saw Ann. Since I looked so quickly I didn't notice the M and thought it was my sister-in-law calling and not my mother-in-law. So there was a moment when I answered the phone that my brain had a hard time processing who was talking. You know how it is when you are expecting one thing and you get another? Ever take a big drink of Dr. Pepper when you had been expecting Coke? Even if you like Dr. Pepper your body and brain reject what you are tasting at first. Part of the experience has already been formulated by your mind before it ever happens.

Anyway...I pick up the phone chipper and happy and content. Ann says hello, I say how are you? And she says, "Jack's dead." My brain is still processing that I should be talking to my sister-in-law so I am trying madly to figure out what she has just said, because that doesn't make sense at all. I came up with the brilliant response of "What?" So she said it again. And this time it sunk in. Who I was speaking to. What she was saying. I got the main details. Massive heart attack. Nothing that could be done. They were in Taos for the long weekend. She was still there. It was all coming out of her like bullet points. Very blunt. Just the facts. I knew she must be in complete shock and just functioning right then to get through it. I told her I would have Brent call her back as soon as he was out of the shower.

I picked back up the phone and called my classmate, who was already on the bus on her way and told her that there had been a family emergency and I would have to cancel. I couldn't even say the words death in the family. It just couldn't be right. So we were going with family emergency. Then I sat on the bed in our room and listened to the shower run. I knew that soon he was going to turn off the water and come out and I would have to tell him that his father was dead. I knew that the words that I had in my head were going to change his life. Were going to make him sad. And there was a part of me that didn't want to tell him. It didn't seem fair. I had to tell him a few years earlier when one of his best friends died. Couldn't someone else tell him this one?

When he came back in to the bedroom he knew something was wrong. I was in shock. No tears yet. But something was obviously wrong with me. He sat down on the bed and I told him. He looked at me and said MY father? Meaning are you sure it's not your father? My dad was 77 at the time. He had quadruple bypass surgery and a whole host of other medical issues. We say he's held together with duct tape and chewing gum. Brent's father was 58, in peak physical shape (except for the smoking), had been completely checked out before his tour of duty in Afghanistan and then again when he returned. So this was not an usual or heartless question. It would be logical that we would lose my father first. But as we all know life isn't fair and death isn't logical.

Brent being Brent went right into action. He called his mother and called the hospital in Taos where his father's body was. Yes, we were already referring to The Body. It's an odd transition that happens when someone first dies. You have so many details that have to be taken care of, so many things that come up, that at first you have to detach from the actual loss of the person you love. If you break down right away you would never get it all done. It's amazing actually how well we are able to cope in an emergency. Brent also started the process with the military. Getting Ann in touch with the right people to handle everything that needed done. Starting with Jack's chain of command.

Then Christopher woke up. Christopher, being the only child of an only child was the center of Jack and Ann's universe. From the point in time that he could interact they were building things, playing games, listening to him play the trumpet. Everything Christopher all the time. They would call just to talk to him on the phone. He was extremely close to both of them. So I sat on the edge of his bed while he sat in his rocking chair and I told him his grandfather had had a massive heart attack and was dead. No sugar candy coating for him. Just the truth. And then he sat in that chair for the next 2 hours and didn't say a word. Just cried to himself. Two hours silent. For those of you that know Christopher I am sure you can't even imagine. Grief is a powerful thing.

We decided that Brent would go straight to New Mexico to be with his mother and help with arrangements. It was the first week of a new school year for Christopher and so he and I would stay in Oregon for the week and fly to NM on Friday for the weekend. All of this was decided on Sunday. Monday morning early Brent was on his way home. He spent the week with his mother figuring out who/what/where and when for everything. Clearing out his father's files, talking with the military about death benefits and widow's medical coverage. He was a God send to his mother. And it was probably the hardest week of his life. Especially with Christopher and I still in Oregon. He didn't have his shelter with him and yet he weathered the storm everyday. I am married to a very courageous man. Someone you want by your side when things are hard.

Christopher decided not to say anything to anyone at school about his grandfather. I don't blame him. It gave him a small place everyday that wasn't sad. I was in school as well as finishing up my last month at the ad agency. I went in to work on Tuesday and sent an email out to everyone. I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to spend any time dwelling on it, but they all needed to know that I might not be up to my game that week and that I would not be into work on Friday. School was much the same way. I let people know who needed to know and other than that I didn't talk about it. And people respected that and let me deal with what needed done.

I was firmly entrenched in the unfairness of it all. Life isn't fair. I know that. But there should be some ground rules right? Jack has just gotten back from Afghanistan. He was one day short of the year anniversary of being home. He spent a year there. A year where we worried ourselves sick wondering if he was going to make it home. When he was called up to go we were all in shock. This was a 56 year old man. Who had served 2 tours in Vietnam! Didn't that give him some sort of pass? But no, off to Afghanistan he went. And so we worried.

The funny thing is, he loved it. Jack was a teacher at heart. And there were so many people to teach there. Young military men in our Army as well as the Afghans. He sent email updates that we kept for Christopher to read when he is older. We didn't start out keeping them for later but sometimes Jack forgot that Christopher was only 13 and maybe some things he didn't need to know about just yet. Like Man Love Thursday. He decided to stay in the Army even after this tour was over and go regular full time instead of heading back to the Guard. He started writing his book. He was revitalized.

He made it home safe and sound and we were all so relieved. It almost felt like we let our guard down too soon. Jack had an off beat sense of humor and I think that this actually would appeal to him. Guy does two tours in Vietnam, a tour in Afghanistan, spends 8 months patrolling the border between New Mexico and Mexico tracking down drug runners and coyotes (the people smugglers, not the animals, though that can be debated) and dies while on a weekend get-a-way to Taos.

Ann first decided that she did not want a funeral service. She was having him cremated and then just the family would gather and say a few things. Then his military unit contacted her and asked that she change her mind. I will always be grateful that she did. It was an amazing way for us to see Jack in an entirely new light. And I hope that the images and service stuck with Christopher.

That's another note as I have about reached the maximum here.

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