Upside Down

Wherein our world is shattered and almost nothing is the same

My first thought as I typed the subheading above was, what am I going to use as an image for this post? Scrolling back in my photos app, I haven’t taken an actual photo since December 14. A lifetime ago.

Best to start at the beginning.

Every Sunday, I called my Dad’s house to talk to him, usually about four in the afternoon. He likes to turn in right after dinner. I would talk to Dad, and then my brother would get on, and we’d catch up on the week’s doings. The Sunday before Christmas I was running late. I was making cookies and doing some other stuff in the kitchen. I looked at the clock. It was almost five o’clock. My phone records show I called the house at 4:56 pm. No answer, I got the answering machine. He must be on the phone with my sister, I thought, or my aunt. I left a cheery message saying to call me back, or I’ll call tomorrow night. For a split second I considered texting my brother, but I dismissed it. We were busy cooking dinner and I had the baking to do. We were going to watch a Christmas movie.

It turns out I had just missed my sister by a few minutes. She arrived right around five o’clock with Dad and her daughter. Unbeknownst to me, Dad’s dialysis schedule was moved up a day due to the Christmas holiday. My brother had taken him to Mass, then straight to the dialysis center. And he never came back. After waiting over an hour for my brother, Dad called my sister. She picked him up, her daughter tagging along. When they arrived at the house, they found my brother had passed away due to a medical emergency while he was home alone.

Fast forward one day, and my husband and I are pulling into Dad’s driveway after a 360 mile drive. I look at the clock, and it’s 4:56 pm.

We are still here with Dad, and will be as long as he needs us. But I will not pretend this is easy. It is so far from that. We left our home on little more than twelve hours notice, packing our bags and car in a haze of shock and grief. Things were forgotten, things were brought that have subsequently been mailed back. Our income has dropped a dramatic percentage, as I had to give up my tax practice, and my husband left his job.

Then there is the sheer grief. I actually cried for over a day. I didn’t think that was possible. Six weeks later, this morning, I found myself crying during breakfast. I realize now that the grief you experience at a sudden, unexpected death is a different animal than when an elderly loved one dies of old age or chronic disease. I have never cried so much in my life, ever.

We are blessed. I have to end this short chronicle with a note of thanksgiving to God, who has made this all possible. My remote job, which I took three years ago, has allowed us to make this sudden pivot without losing all of our income. Dad can continue to live in the home he has lived in for over fifty years, instead of having to move into a nursing home. Our youngest is an adult and we are able to leave our home in his capable care. So far, the money is stretching just far enough. Our oldest has offered to assist with any shortfall. If anything, my faith has grown.

I’ve decided the studio portrait of the two of us from Queens, circa 1969, will do. Rest in peace.

If you’ve read this far, please say a prayer for my brother Tom, for the repose of his soul. Thank you.