A special welcome to anyone who is new to The Grieving Room. We meet every Monday evening. Whether your loss is recent or many years ago, whether you have lost a person or a pet, or even if the person you are "mourning" is still alive ("pre-grief" can be a very lonely and confusing time) you can come to this diary and process your grieving in whatever way works for you. Share whatever you need to share. We can't solve each other's problems, but we can be a sounding board and a place of connection.
Every time I see your face
It reminds me of the places we used to go
But all I got is a photograph
And I realize you're not coming back any more…
-- from "Photograph" by Ringo Starr
It's been a rough year overall.
When you know a person is dying, while it's ultimately sad, there's at least time to prepare, to clean up loose ends, to touch base with that person on things that need to be done. When it's a sudden decline, you're left holding the bag in many ways, out at sea.
There's still so much to be done since my father-in-law's death a year ago Saturday. There's still a house to clear out and sell so the money can pay for my mother-in-law's care and housing. Her health, while better, is still an issue meaning many trips to the clinic, and since her eldest son, my spouse, works during the week much of that goes on me to get her there on the bus. My father-in-law handled most of the financial details, making sure there was enough in the checking accounts for her to pay bills and such, which means she's getting a crash course in that from his CPA and financial planner (and relying on me for help as well).
And of course there are the personal touches. While clearing out some cabinets in the bedroom, I discovered a treasure trove; boxes of slides taken by my father-in-law over several years. So me and my big mouth took on the project of scanning them into our computer, with the eventual plan of putting the best together into photo books for my spouse, his brother, and his mother. I've barely scratched the surface, but have resumed scanning in earnest -- and in doing so have found I'm getting even a greater image of the man I called "Dad" for the past 20 years.
In viewing the slides, three themes strike me: love for technology, engineering, love of nature (probably related to the love of God that permeated his adult life), and love of family.
Technology/Engineering
He came of age in the era of computer infancy, when giant machines took up entire rooms, and left this earth when computers could actually fit inside one's pocket or purse. An engineering major at University of Washington, he was fascinated by the subject, as seen in numerous photos of projects such as hydroelectric dams (Coulee, Boulder), the Space Needle, and other structures.
He saw the birth of audio technology at Ampex Corporation in Redwood City, but most of his working life was spent at Hewlett-Packard, where the founders still practiced their "management by walking around" style instead of shutting themselves up in penthouse offices like many modern CEOs. In later years, he moved from Engineering to Publications, using his writing and people skills to build the company newsletters. He was proud of the fact that he had the opportunity to interview both Bill Hewlett and David Packard at the peak of their careers.
Even after retirement, technology interests encompassed his life and made pursuing his interests easier, from genealogy research to keeping track of family finances to helping out progressive and Democratic causes. He was an early member of Move On, back in the days when their full name was Censure and Move On, a reference to what they thought the proper response to the Clinton/Lewinsky matter should be rather than the impeachment show that the Republicans chose.
Nature/God/Spirituality
His love of nature is extensively reflected in photos, from oceans to forests to the majesty of Yosemite, a favorite family destination.
In many ways the love of nature, God's creation, was related to his love of God himself. Raised spiritually agnostic, he always felt like there was something more out there, but it wasn't until he became a member of the Episcopal Church in college that he found it. For most of his adult life, he was a dedicated member of the church, and found a spiritual path that worked for him; he was a founding member of his parish's Healing Prayer group, served as a mentor to many young men and women seeking their own paths, and served as a lay minister at services and in taking Eucharist to those too ill to attend. He was also a gifted actor, participating in many of the productions of the church's Pew Players group until age caught up with him at last.
Every morning, while his wife still slept, he would rise at 6 am to pray, in a mode called "centering prayer". Part prayer, part meditation, it was a practice that both gave him great comfort and focus in his working years and into retirement.
He was also a gifted poet, many of his poems having a religious bent. This one, written in the late 1990s, was used in the bulletin for the memorial service:
THERE
You were there at my beginning
In the knitting of ancient atoms
Into sinews, muscles, bones
To form this body in which I live.
You were there at my borning
In the first of my breathing
The air of your making
By grace, my long life sustaining.
You are there in the lonely moments
Through love and laughter
In crisis, doubt, and danger
Ever present loving spirit divine.
Family
But the biggest driving point of his life would be his family, particularly his wife and two sons…and later, the daughter by marriage.
Like most families, life wasn't perfect -- in the 1980s, failed scoliosis surgery put his wife in a wheelchair, and he devoted many of his available hours to caring for her (though she was still able to do much on her own, she basically needed help in getting dressed in the mornings and ready for bed in the evenings, as well as someone around when she showered in case of problems). His younger son ran into problems first with drugs, then was diagnosed with bipolar and mild schizophrenia, and lastly devolved into alcoholism in the need to self-medicate before consenting to institutionalization. (On the plus side, he's now transitioned to "supportive care" in a small group living situation, and is doing great.)
Health problems began to creep up on him as well, first progressive hearing loss that was partially helped by hearing aids, back surgery that had minimal if any effect on him, and finally dementia that may have been worse than he let on to his family; the loss of his driver's license really hurt him, and he spent close to a year fighting the decision till he finally gave up.
Himself an only child, with his parents divorced at an early age and growing up with a military stepfather which meant several moves, I think he was determined to give his sons as much of a "normal" childhood as possible; growing up was filled with Boy Scouts, church trips, and family vacations to places like Disneyland, Yosemite, Seattle/Spokane to visit family, etc.
…but the greatest of these is Love
Above all, what I remember the most of my father-in-law is his abiding love -- for his fellow human being which drove his politics as a progressive Democrat, for his family as he came through when we most needed it, and for God which he truly lived out to the best of his ability.
Only recently has my spouse been able to speak of his father again; on our recent trip to Disneyland, we were touring an exhibit of future plans for the parks and on looking at some of the engineering diagrams and dioramas, he said, "Dad would have loved this." He's also taken on much of his father's job in caring for both his mother and his brother; he can't do quite as much because of his work schedule, but he makes several trips to run errands for Mom, as well as spending time with his brother (he's thinking of the two of them making a "guy's weekend" trip together later this year). Life moves on, and while we all still miss Dad immensely, we muddle through the best we can.