Why I didn't go

My 2nd Father died a few years ago. I did not go to the funeral. I live 800 miles away. I would've had to make the drive by myself. I did not have enough time. That's all bullshit.

Tom was as much my Dad as my Dad was. My father (real) provided me with food, shelter, love and encouragement. I was not a mistreated son, I was much loved and loved in return. However my 2nd Father was also a son's dream. A true outdoors-man. A skilled hunter, a skilled fisher, and a person who lived off the land for much of their food. There was much to learn, much to experience and too much to tell in this tale.

He died quietly as he lived. He died in his pickup truck getting ready to drive up to the road to get the mail. He passed quickly, peacefully, and with his wife of over 60 years nearby. He had just come off the ice of the inland lake he lived on after spending the last few hours of his life fishing.

I didn't go to his funeral. I cried at his passing. I cried in thanks for all of the wonderful memories he allowed me to participate in. I grieved because I missed him so much.

His oldest daughter and I were married. We were high school sweethearts. I had been fishing with Tom since I was 16 years old. I hunted partridge with him. We picked mushrooms, wild leeks, cranberries, blueberries, we cut trees and roofed garages and snowmobiled on Lake Superior. I was truly his son.

I was not close with the rest of the family. His wife Glady and I talked and I loved her in a fashion but there were issues and I probably more tolerated her than felt the love of a parent. My wife's sister Kathy, I loved her. I would not call us very close, but she was a nice person and I enjoyed visiting with her. Tom's son Tom and I were friendly. We did not do too much together, but I was around when he was a little kid. When he got older and married I didn't see him too often, but he was family. The last daughter, Lou I was not close with at all. I tolerated her because she was family but I didn't care too much for her. The oldest daughter, Bonnie. We were married 23 years. I loved her, what happened to that marriage would be speculation. I am sure I bear the bulk of the blame because of my alcoholism, but there are always two stories.

When Bonnie and I divorced I am sure I broke Tom's heart. He never said. He still called me his son-in-law, but I'm sure I hurt him deeply. His son didn't hunt with him, didn't like fishing, and was not much of an outdoor person. I was, and we were together constantly.

So when Tom died I did not go to his funeral. I couldn't face the hurt I had inflicted on him and thusly the family. The kids and I were not particularly close, but they all knew how Tom felt about me and how I felt about him. Bonnie and I spent hours playing cards, visiting, putting up with Glady's incessant meddling. We both loved Tom dearly. Me, I couldn't face the family.

My daughters encouraged me to come, after all I knew a lot of the stories. Brother Tom told others that I would show up, but I didn't. I couldn't face the consequences of my actions.

A few years before Tom died I made a trek back to the U.P. to go deer hunting with him. It cost me over $100 for the deer license for three hours of being in the woods with him again. We walked in an area that had deer sign but no deer. I knew we wouldn't see any, and I think he did too. It was an exercise in being together in the woods one last time. I came out the next morning to see if he wanted to go again, he couldn't his legs would not support him and he was in a lot of pain. But he pushed himself the day before so we could be together in the snowstorm lurking about in the woods. It was the last time in the woods for he and I. I will always treasure it.

The night before the point of no return I lay awake in the middle of the night debating with myself whether or not I should get up in the morning and leave for the funeral. I tossed and turned, fretted and worried. I was a coward. All of a sudden as I lay in the bed a soft warmth crept through my body. A sense of well being and comfort came over me and I knew it would be all right if I didn't go. Call it what you may but I think Tom's love understood my dilemma and told me it was OK. A parting gift from a man I dearly loved.

A Memory Revisited

The light fixture in our hallway went kaput. I decided to replace it with a track light so we could have illumination from the washer/dryer and up the stairs. Living in Arkansas I do not have much of an opportunity to watch my beloved Green Bay Packers, but from time to time they are televised nationally on Fox and I can see them then. I started to wonder this morning if that might be the case. Checking the online TV guide sure enough, they played Carolina and were on Fox. So I turned the game on and enjoyed working on the project while keeping track of the game. It made me think of a time long ago.

Our family lived in Sturtevant, WI from 1975 to 1980. We lived in a "starter" home. My Dad had not remarried and it must've been around 1975. It was the fall of the year and Dad had come down for a visit. We had gone to church and now were at home doing some fall chores, cleaning windows, raking leaves, etc. We had the Packer game on TV and a radio sticking out a window so we could hear the game while we worked outside. If something exciting happened during the game we would rush back into the living room to see the replay. A couple of times my father and I had to laugh because we would meet rushing into the living room Dad coming from the front door and me coming through the kitchen.

Today I was in the back hallway when Favre threw for a touchdown. Rushing back in to see the replay made me think of my Dad. I miss watching Green Bay play with my Dad.