So here we are, somewhere in Oregon.  So far this day we started the afternoon with our bus into Sacramento being almost 30 minutes late due to traffic.  Ever since then they have been trying to keep the schedule on time so we have been moving along at each stop.  No food except wha one can purchase in a vending machine.  It's one thing to live off Doritos and Coca-Cola when you are a teenager.  It is a different story when you are of a certain age, not having brushed your teeth in almost two days, while experiencing the joys of no longer feeling anything but pain and numbness from your knees down due to sitting like a pretzel for the last 30 hours.  And oh yeah did I mention that it has been equally as long since the LAST CUP OF COFFEE!

So far on this trip my sister and I have cried at least a 10 times, if not more.  We have relived so many times and stories about our Dad and growing up.  In itself it has been great counseling and a great comfort.  Earlier this evening we were watching the sunset.  On the horizon coming at us were  what I could  only guess a flock of geese.  They were all flying in formation and as they approached closer they broke off to make what almost looked like a smiling face as they flew over us.  It was a special moment which of course ended with tears

I did find myself teleported back in time.  During a stop in Redding, CA. I got out to stretch and use the bathroom.  It seemed familiar to me, this place.  As I entered the bathroom I remember being at this same exact stop as a little girl with my Mom.  I could see her plain as day then.  It was almost like watching ones own 8mm movie playing inside your brain.  It seems like that was just yesterday but indeed it was almost 40 years ago.  That time went by so quick.  I think with all the emotions of these last few weeks and this trip it made me a bit sad.  Also the lack of sleep and coffee did not help it any....but it sure was nice being that little girl even just for a moment watching my mother at the bus station in Redding, CA

Earlier this evening our bus broke down in the middle of nowhere.  Looking out the window all one could think of was the Walking Dead or Slender man.  After the threat of "if we have to call a rescue bus it may take hours so hopefully it starts after it has cooled down".  UH....What?!  It is super dark in the middle of nowhere....and I mean super dark.  Well she started with the hopes of it not overheating.  As we pulled out onto the desolate stretch of highway I found myself asking...."come on Dad could you please make sure your Grlz and everyone on this bus travel safely to our destination of Portland (OR at the very least to the next station).  So far so good...we are still on the road.  Even squealed with excitement to see that we were stoping somewhere where they had something other than vending machines.....Taco Bell.  I found myself announcing "Hey look REAL food" Which is funny because under normal circumstances I would say, "don't eat that stuff"  but now it is viewed as fine dining at its best and at 3 in the morning only to be understood by my fellow Greyhound riders and stoners everywhere across the states.  The true funny was the order.....I will have 3 nacho dorito taco supremes and a coke, please".  Of all things to order it was the vending machines at every bus station the we had experienced from Sacramento all the way up into (wait for it).....Weed, CA.  

Woke up this morning still on the same bus that broke down last night in the middle of nowhere so my request was answered. The view looking out was that of the sun just starting to break and Pine Trees enrobed with fog. It was just beautiful.

After travels thru Eugene, OR and several other little stops just starring out the window to the scenery I realized that at some point I may want to explain the part of "The Pink Sweater". One year way back when (best guess 25 years ago) my sister and I took a trip up to Washington to see our Dad. Now mind you I said that this was about 25 years ago so that would put it around 1990. My sister owned this pink sweater with the cowl neck and patchwork and knitting around the front. A design remnant from the 80s. So while on this trip, being sisters, we of course shared clothes. We shared the pink sweater. So much so that at first Dad would say "didn't your sister wear that yesterday?"..."yes Dad" and then the following day he would see it on the other. When we got back and had our pictures developed (because that is what you did before digital cameras) we noticed that in every photo one of us was wearing The Pink Sweater. So thru the years it has become a bit of a joke. We have passed it back and forth as a Christmas present or a Birthday present. One year when our Dad was down for Christmas we even got him to put it on and let us take his picture in The Pink Sweater - It was hilarious.

A few years ago my sister gave it to me on one of my birthdays and I tucked it away. Before we left for our trip that we are on now I went digging for it. I thought it was fitting for this trip. This will be Its swan song. Me, my sister, one last visit, saying Goodbye to our Dad. I am certain that once I pull it out and show my sister what I have packed.....everyone will be laughing. Including our Dad.

For the next week we stayed with our Mom staying close to her side.  We did not know how to process this.  Could not work, could not feel anything but disbelief, heartache and a strange sense of helplessness.  Being so far away did not make it easy.  On that Wednesday morning one week after my Dad had died I woke up with his strength. ...I got up and said to myself "I got this".  I went to work feeling my Dad all around me hearing him say "you have to go to work...there is nothing that will change this".  I found myself starting off with a good fqce, feeling strong and then once at work... just starring at the computer screen.  Thinking this just cant be real.  By the afternoon had to leave work and as i was driving started having a complete meltdown in some parking lot that I had to turn off into.  I  did NOT have it!

My sister too was experiencing such feelings of intense heartbreak and helplessness to the point of not being able to go to wor.  She petty much only left her home to go to Moms. over one week later there still was no obit, no final plans again the overwhelming sense of helplessness just waiting for some kind of details. We were lost. It was thru a Google search that we found the preliminary obituary as listed by the funeral home in his pacific North Western town where he resided since he left the Southwest.  No one bothered to tell us...we found it on our own.  Then we finally got the date of his services....May 5, full military honors, it will only last 30 min then we are off to a memorial service.  "How many of you are coming because the event is being catered and we need a head count" ....we were asked.  WOW .....30 min for his services, the same amount of time it takes for a pizza to be delivered?  No type of memorial service at a church?  Let's just put they guy in the ground and let's eat.  I was having such a hard time with all of this.  This is not how I wanted to say goodbye to our Dad.  This man was a decorated war Vereran, served two tours in Vietnam, loved his Country and his family and a friend to many.  This was our Dad!  Surely this Man was deserving of something just a little warmer.  Something just a lttle more.  I found myself questioning what type of person would i become if i did not say goodbye to my Dad in true Rhys grl fashion...and my answer scared me.  So with the support of our family and friends to help take care of things while we are gone and the kindness and generosity of a dear family friend... we set out last night....traveling in a fashion that was what our Dad put all of us on over 40 years ago.....we set off last night by boarding a Greyhound Bus.

Here we come Dad.

That first 24 hours is a bit of a blurr.  After that first phone call, we all ended up at our Mom's...to gather together in our disbelief and sorrow, for each other and in some sense as a united front to protect the one who continues to talk to him as if he was sitting right next to her.  And when she is not talking to him she just sits in idle starring down to the ground.

My sister, niece and myself all stayed the night.  Even our Mom's cat sensed a change and knew not to be too far away.  That morning after waking up in my childhood home, I turned on the coffee pot to the quiet house as I heard my Mom stirring about.   I left her with her first cup of coffee and her thoughts.  Not knowing what to do I went outside to water her yard.  As I watered my thoughts kept turning to when my Dad taught me how to bicycle.  It was a yellow huffy bike with a long white seat.  I remember him holding me up and walking fast, which turned into a slight jog all around the cul du  sac waiting for me to find my balance.  Over and over again he did this, he never gave up and never got frustrated.  He kept with his words of encouragement until I finally found the right combination of balance and peddling.  Not once did I think he was not behind me until I turned to smile at him that I realized he was standing there getting smaller in my sight just beaming and I realized he let go.  Upon which of course I am sure I fell down.   Now that morning as I watered my Mom's yard that image of him teaching me how to ride a bike and him smiling at me after he let go kept repeating in my head.  I guess that truly is what parents do throughout your life...they show you the way and then they must let go for you to carry out the lessons on your own and his death was no different.

As this played over and over again in the early morning I realized that there was a golf ball close to the fence.   Now living on a golf course this is a daily common occurrence.   I walked over to the ball to throw it back over like I always do and as I picked it up I looked at it on it in bold were the words DAD imprinted on the ball.  I looked around there was no one around ....way too early for anyone to start a round or practice.  I looked at the ball in my hand and read the words one more time and began to sob.  In my heart I felt him sitting on the backyard swing just watching me water and this was a sign to let me know he was alright.  I kept this moment as mine for just a few minutes....I did not want him to leave me just yet. My sister came out with her cup of coffee to join me in the backyard and I walked up to her and showed her what I had found in the yard down by the gate.  I believe her words through the immediate tears we "NO WAY!" and we both cried.  Then we showed Mom and to us she said....."he is Here - all around us".  And for the remaining part of the day we all sat with our heartache.

 There are no words.

April 15 will forever be a date that I will remember.  Not for the mere fact that we are surrounded by constant reminders of the obvious....Tax Day...but for me it was the day that I received that phone call so early in the morning telling me that my Dad had died.  Disbelief. .it can't be true certainly I misunderstood those words I just heard thru the phone....Not My Dad!  In grief and confusion I knew that I now had to drive over to my Mom's and deliver this news.

I am not real sure how I got to Mom's house thru the tears and numbness my car must have been on auto drive and instinctively knew where it had go.  As I entered into the house, still in the shirt that I had slept in a pair of jeans and I not real sure what on my feet for shoes, I think my Mom knew.  As I turned the corner and she saw my face she said firmly "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?"  I could see it, the fear in her eyes of the words I was about to say....."MOM," I said choking on my tears, she yells "What!"  As I said the words" Dad", she screamed "OH NO, YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME, YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME..." and I finished my words "Mom, Dad died this morning".  And as I heard myself say those words....I still could not believe it and my heart broke even more watching my Mom in her screams and tears realize that the Man that she loved even after all those years after their divorce...would never walk thru those doors once again and say "Hi Sonja".

Moments later I got the call from my sister, it was inaudible to hear words thru her screams of heartache and tears before I knew it I was talking to one of her colleagues saying, "We have your sister and we will bring her to you just give us an address".  After she got the information she needed, her firm in charge tone then turned to apologies for our loss.  OH DEAR GOD, it was the first condolence received for my Dad's death.  Surely she made a mistake and was not talking to me but it hit me..she was talking to me....it was me who lost her Dad....it was my family....it just can't be true...but it was.