It's been 10 years today
The Super bowl
We drove home to be with my parents for the holidays for the first time in several years. The last time we had done this, we had stopped at the Scranton Airport to pick up my younger brother who had flown in from California, we were surprising my mother, she knew my family was coming up from North Carolina, but had no clue Greg was coming too. That had been a very successful surprise. As we drove back this time, the kids were all hoping for snow, and talking excitedly, arguing over seat positions, or asking how much longer we had to go. A typical family drive I suppose.
We arrived, happy and exhausted, but safe. My mother had a 12-foot tree set up in the living room of her Victorian B & B, waiting for the kids to help her decorate it. They gave hugs and kisses to her and my dad, before lugging the suitcases up to their rooms and heading for bed. It was late, and they planned to decorate the tree first thing in the morning, before heading off to play with various friends they didn’t get to see very often, and doing a little bit of sledding.
My husband and I got the kids settled for the night and then sat at the kitchen table, everyone’s favorite place to hang out in this huge house. The kitchen was this old fashioned country kitchen, all the cupboards ran around two walls, (The old fashion kind that had glass in them, and the drawers pulled through to the dinning room so you didn’t have to walk back and forth between the kitchen) a row of windows over looked a garden, now dormant in the winter cold, another wall had the door to the back porch and cellar, with an old butlers cart that held the coffee maker, now perking a fresh brew for all of us. At the end of that wall was the door to my parent’s bedroom, the only bedroom on this floor, originally a maid or cooks room, with a private bath adjacent to the laundry room. This was perfect for my parents; it left the remaining five bedrooms upstairs for guests, along with the old sewing room my mother turned into the linen room. (It held everything from the linen to shampoos, toilet paper, and anything else needed to run the Inn). We all sat at the large round oak kitchen table, sipping our coffee and discussing how the trip went.
My dad and I talked about how the San Francisco 49ers were doing that year. We were avid fans, although he claimed to be a bigger Raiders fan. We had always watched the games together when I was growing up, and over the years, no matter where my husband and I were transferred, I would always call my dad up and discuss the season, and on Super bowl Sunday I would call during half time, and he would call at the finish… if it were a Niners game. My husband Ron, had made beef jerky for my dad and handed him the bag. He passed that around for all of us to have a little. My mother informed us that we had just two sets of guest for the week, but that on New Years the place would be filled with friends coming from all over, as well as a couple rooms in their other house they rented out to guests. So that meant we were in for a very fun New Years Eve bash!
The next day the kids decorated the tree with Grandma while I slept in and then took off to play with their friends. After I woke and had coffee, and visited with the folks who stopped by to warm up before walking home, (They would walk to the post office across the street, get their mail, and then come have coffee at the Inn, in the kitchen.) I unloaded the Christmas gifts we had brought along with us. I carefully put them around the tree, making adjustments as my mother brought out hers to go under as well. The kids came trooping in, cold and hungry, so we made them lunch.
After lunch mom mixed up several different cookie recipes and let the kids go to town making them, baking them and decorating them. They had a lot of fun, as well as making a huge mess. But it was Christmas Eve, and we needed cookies for Santa. They got the mess cleaned up and noticed all the gifts under the tree, and of course they stayed amused there for a while, during which time we made up a light dinner and prepared everything for the next days Christmas meal.
Christmas was a hit, as it usually is when children are young. They are never disappointed in their gifts at that age, and tend to get along with their siblings… for a few hours anyway. All of us adults loved the gifts we received, I remember getting new knobs made of porcelain for my kitchen drawers, and each one had an herb imprinted on them, which I happen to love. Overall I definitely remember this day being a good one for my memory book.
The following week went by in various ways, my husbands parents dropped by from Connecticut for a day and night stay. My husband and dad went to Binghamton, NY. My dad had a doctor’s appointment, and they wanted to get supplies at Sam’s Club for the New Years Eve party. The kids stayed busy with friends and new toys, while my mother and I decorated for the party.
New Years Eve arrived… along with many friends! They all brought in food or Christmas gifts, and pretty soon the entire town was there as well as friends from New York, New Jersey, Connecticut and other small towns in Pennsylvania. The house was packed, and believe me, this was a very large house! Music was playing in the living room, with people dancing, kids were in my parent’s room playing Nintendo on their television, the kitchen was packed with chatters and the dinning room packed with those who were hungry. We had roast beef, turkey, ham, crackers, and all kinds of snacks, as well as mixed drinks, champagne, beer and non-alcoholic beverages. No one was driving anywhere. They either lived within walking distance or were staying over. At the stroke of midnight the whistles blew, the fireworks shot off (Thanks to the family from North Carolina.) and sounds of “Happy New Years!” could be heard all over the tiny town of Starrucca, Pa! My dad was walking around hugging everyone, and thanking them for coming once again, he absolutely loved this once a year party they threw. He hugged me, telling me he loved me, and was so happy we had made it up for the holidays again.
It had snowed the following day, so we chose to leave on January third, pushing it really, since Ron had to be back on the fourth, as well as the kids back in school. But we didn’t want to have to face the snowplows and icy roads the day after, so we held off. The morning of our departure, my father kept trying to talk us out of leaving just yet, “wait another day, just one more.” He was saying. But we really had to be going. We promised our normal phone calls and looked forward to the play offs. The departure was tearful, but the ride home uneventful.
We got in late, but I still sent the kids off to school the next day and set about putting everything away. Just as the last child left for the bus the next day, January 5th, my mother called. My dad had died in his sleep, and could I come home? Well of course I would go home. I hung up and sat down in shock, I wondered why I wasn’t crying, I couldn’t think straight so I called my husband at work and told him, asked him to make all the arrangements. He came right home, he booked me a flight back to Scranton, and he would stay home with the kids.
An older couple picked me up at the airport, they were friends of my mothers, and she wasn’t up to driving the hour-long drive. Besides, there were family members flying in from all over the country. When I arrived at my mothers she was there along with several other people, sitting around the kitchen table. We hugged and cried, well she cried, and I hugged. We said goodnight to the friends and she and I sat down to talk. She told me about his last day after I had left and how he died. He talked about how happy he had been we had come home. I missed him already.
Friends and family flew in from all over the country. The Methodist church held the funeral and it was so packed that people were spilling out into the yard and street. Starrucca is a town of approximately 200 people, but my dad had lived all over the country and had touched many lives. So much so that they were willing to fly all the way to Pa. To pay their last respects. I was very impressed by this, and I hope I can live half as good a life as he did.
I stayed on for several weeks to help my mother. I really didn’t want her to be alone yet. I had watched the play offs with other family members during the week of my dad’s funeral; the Niners were going to the Super bowl, as was San Diego. The date arrived for the Super bowl and my heart wasn’t in it. We were invited over to some friends’ home to watch the game and have dinner, so we went. It was a real good dinner, and the game got started, but all of a sudden I just couldn’t be there. I needed to be at the house, to watch it alone.
I sat and watched the game, by myself. My mother read a book while I sat in my dads chair, watching. And when the end of the game came, and the San Francisco 49ers won, I cried my eyes out. I said goodbye to my dad, and unknown to me at the time, I also said goodbye to an era of football that I would never experience again. I went home three days later.
We drove home to be with my parents for the holidays for the first time in several years. The last time we had done this, we had stopped at the Scranton Airport to pick up my younger brother who had flown in from California, we were surprising my mother, she knew my family was coming up from North Carolina, but had no clue Greg was coming too. That had been a very successful surprise. As we drove back this time, the kids were all hoping for snow, and talking excitedly, arguing over seat positions, or asking how much longer we had to go. A typical family drive I suppose.
We arrived, happy and exhausted, but safe. My mother had a 12-foot tree set up in the living room of her Victorian B & B, waiting for the kids to help her decorate it. They gave hugs and kisses to her and my dad, before lugging the suitcases up to their rooms and heading for bed. It was late, and they planned to decorate the tree first thing in the morning, before heading off to play with various friends they didn’t get to see very often, and doing a little bit of sledding.
My husband and I got the kids settled for the night and then sat at the kitchen table, everyone’s favorite place to hang out in this huge house. The kitchen was this old fashioned country kitchen, all the cupboards ran around two walls, (The old fashion kind that had glass in them, and the drawers pulled through to the dinning room so you didn’t have to walk back and forth between the kitchen) a row of windows over looked a garden, now dormant in the winter cold, another wall had the door to the back porch and cellar, with an old butlers cart that held the coffee maker, now perking a fresh brew for all of us. At the end of that wall was the door to my parent’s bedroom, the only bedroom on this floor, originally a maid or cooks room, with a private bath adjacent to the laundry room. This was perfect for my parents; it left the remaining five bedrooms upstairs for guests, along with the old sewing room my mother turned into the linen room. (It held everything from the linen to shampoos, toilet paper, and anything else needed to run the Inn). We all sat at the large round oak kitchen table, sipping our coffee and discussing how the trip went.
My dad and I talked about how the San Francisco 49ers were doing that year. We were avid fans, although he claimed to be a bigger Raiders fan. We had always watched the games together when I was growing up, and over the years, no matter where my husband and I were transferred, I would always call my dad up and discuss the season, and on Super bowl Sunday I would call during half time, and he would call at the finish… if it were a Niners game. My husband Ron, had made beef jerky for my dad and handed him the bag. He passed that around for all of us to have a little. My mother informed us that we had just two sets of guest for the week, but that on New Years the place would be filled with friends coming from all over, as well as a couple rooms in their other house they rented out to guests. So that meant we were in for a very fun New Years Eve bash!
The next day the kids decorated the tree with Grandma while I slept in and then took off to play with their friends. After I woke and had coffee, and visited with the folks who stopped by to warm up before walking home, (They would walk to the post office across the street, get their mail, and then come have coffee at the Inn, in the kitchen.) I unloaded the Christmas gifts we had brought along with us. I carefully put them around the tree, making adjustments as my mother brought out hers to go under as well. The kids came trooping in, cold and hungry, so we made them lunch.
After lunch mom mixed up several different cookie recipes and let the kids go to town making them, baking them and decorating them. They had a lot of fun, as well as making a huge mess. But it was Christmas Eve, and we needed cookies for Santa. They got the mess cleaned up and noticed all the gifts under the tree, and of course they stayed amused there for a while, during which time we made up a light dinner and prepared everything for the next days Christmas meal.
Christmas was a hit, as it usually is when children are young. They are never disappointed in their gifts at that age, and tend to get along with their siblings… for a few hours anyway. All of us adults loved the gifts we received, I remember getting new knobs made of porcelain for my kitchen drawers, and each one had an herb imprinted on them, which I happen to love. Overall I definitely remember this day being a good one for my memory book.
The following week went by in various ways, my husbands parents dropped by from Connecticut for a day and night stay. My husband and dad went to Binghamton, NY. My dad had a doctor’s appointment, and they wanted to get supplies at Sam’s Club for the New Years Eve party. The kids stayed busy with friends and new toys, while my mother and I decorated for the party.
New Years Eve arrived… along with many friends! They all brought in food or Christmas gifts, and pretty soon the entire town was there as well as friends from New York, New Jersey, Connecticut and other small towns in Pennsylvania. The house was packed, and believe me, this was a very large house! Music was playing in the living room, with people dancing, kids were in my parent’s room playing Nintendo on their television, the kitchen was packed with chatters and the dinning room packed with those who were hungry. We had roast beef, turkey, ham, crackers, and all kinds of snacks, as well as mixed drinks, champagne, beer and non-alcoholic beverages. No one was driving anywhere. They either lived within walking distance or were staying over. At the stroke of midnight the whistles blew, the fireworks shot off (Thanks to the family from North Carolina.) and sounds of “Happy New Years!” could be heard all over the tiny town of Starrucca, Pa! My dad was walking around hugging everyone, and thanking them for coming once again, he absolutely loved this once a year party they threw. He hugged me, telling me he loved me, and was so happy we had made it up for the holidays again.
It had snowed the following day, so we chose to leave on January third, pushing it really, since Ron had to be back on the fourth, as well as the kids back in school. But we didn’t want to have to face the snowplows and icy roads the day after, so we held off. The morning of our departure, my father kept trying to talk us out of leaving just yet, “wait another day, just one more.” He was saying. But we really had to be going. We promised our normal phone calls and looked forward to the play offs. The departure was tearful, but the ride home uneventful.
We got in late, but I still sent the kids off to school the next day and set about putting everything away. Just as the last child left for the bus the next day, January 5th, my mother called. My dad had died in his sleep, and could I come home? Well of course I would go home. I hung up and sat down in shock, I wondered why I wasn’t crying, I couldn’t think straight so I called my husband at work and told him, asked him to make all the arrangements. He came right home, he booked me a flight back to Scranton, and he would stay home with the kids.
An older couple picked me up at the airport, they were friends of my mothers, and she wasn’t up to driving the hour-long drive. Besides, there were family members flying in from all over the country. When I arrived at my mothers she was there along with several other people, sitting around the kitchen table. We hugged and cried, well she cried, and I hugged. We said goodnight to the friends and she and I sat down to talk. She told me about his last day after I had left and how he died. He talked about how happy he had been we had come home. I missed him already.
Friends and family flew in from all over the country. The Methodist church held the funeral and it was so packed that people were spilling out into the yard and street. Starrucca is a town of approximately 200 people, but my dad had lived all over the country and had touched many lives. So much so that they were willing to fly all the way to Pa. To pay their last respects. I was very impressed by this, and I hope I can live half as good a life as he did.
I stayed on for several weeks to help my mother. I really didn’t want her to be alone yet. I had watched the play offs with other family members during the week of my dad’s funeral; the Niners were going to the Super bowl, as was San Diego. The date arrived for the Super bowl and my heart wasn’t in it. We were invited over to some friends’ home to watch the game and have dinner, so we went. It was a real good dinner, and the game got started, but all of a sudden I just couldn’t be there. I needed to be at the house, to watch it alone.
I sat and watched the game, by myself. My mother read a book while I sat in my dads chair, watching. And when the end of the game came, and the San Francisco 49ers won, I cried my eyes out. I said goodbye to my dad, and unknown to me at the time, I also said goodbye to an era of football that I would never experience again. I went home three days later.
posted by Wench` at 1:48 PM
1 Comments:
Very Touchy Wench. He should`ve been a great man ! - Weirdoweird
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