3 years...

3 years ago, today, my mimi went in to wake up my papa before she left for work. he had the remote in his hand, resting on his belly. only, he wasn't asleep.

i remember everything about that day. how i went to work and got bitched at for using my cell phone. how i searched the internet for jobs (while at work) because i had had enough of our "manager." how when my mom called my cell phone, i made a big show about not answering it. how i was picking up my desk phone to call her back (because that was ok) when ruth told me my mom was on the line. how, as soon as i heard her voice, i knew she was about to tell me someone had died. how i thought she was going to tell me it was Nana, my great grandmother (because that was the order the family was supposed to go in, so i thought). how when she said those words, i had to use every ounce of strength to hold the phone to my ear. how i didn't cry until 2 of my coworkers were walking me down the hall and i wailed. how i sobbed.

june wouldn't let me drive. she put me in her car and on our way to the hospital, i asked her to stop at the coffee shop. i (thought i) composed myself a little, walked in, passed a cop who jumped up and said "ma'am are you ok?!" and walked straight to Coy - Papa's very best friend. I took his hand and told him the news. he hugged me and held me and i sobbed some more. i kissed Coy's cheek and told him i love him. i walked back out to june's car and we headed to the hospital, in silence.

when we pulled up my mom, dad, and pam (one of mimi's coworkers and best friends) were standing in the parking lot. june got out and told my mom how sorry she was and that if we needed anything to call. i hugged my mom, hugged my dad, and hugged pam. my mom wanted to hold on to me a little longer, but i just couldn't let her. i needed to see him. we walked into the e.r., to the room they had papa in. there was pretty much my whole family, surrounding him, laying there in a hospital gown, that i for the life of me don't know why they put on him. they brought him in in his gray undies. i guess they put the gown on him for modesty. little did they know, papa preferred being in his undies...no matter who was around. my friends can attest to that...

i remember how mimi was on one side of him, my aunt kathleen on the other. how aunt kathleen already had dark circles under her eyes from crying. how mimi just kept saying 'oh darlin" and kissing his lips. how the room had so many people in it, yet it was quiet aside from sniffles and mimi. how i had to see his "battle scar" one more time. how me pulling down that hospital gown and running my fingers on his bypass scar made us all laugh because he used to tell us he got into a knife fight with a mexican and you should see the other guy. how mimi made us laugh again when she lifted up the gown to show the 3 round scars from his gallbladder surgery and said "don't forget about the fight with the indian"

for a while we sat there telling stories. it was good for us. but we all knew phone calls needed to be made. somehow, i found the strength to make those phone calls, to family, to friends that are practically family. i was calm, broke it to them gently. i made at least 15 phone calls. i have no idea how i did it.

the rest of the day was busy. funeral arrangements were made, the obituary was written, friend after friend showed up. i was ok until my ann got there...and i lost it again. family from out of town arrived. shayla and stormy took me to my apartment to get some clothes. my roommate at the time couldn't offer much sympathy. she just didn't know papa like shay and storm did. he was pretty much their papa too.

i spent the night with mimi that night. i slept in her bed, holding her hand the whole night. i did that every night for the next 2 months, except when my aunt kathleen spent the weekends while my uncle h.a. hunted, and she slept with mimi. after 2 months of staying with mimi, i decided i needed to move out of my apartment and in with her, and i quit my job. she needed me, and i needed her. it was good for both of us, except that i never really allowed myself to grieve completely. i needed to be strong for mimi because the love of her life was gone.

i realize now how much i hardened after papa died. i was angry. i'm still angry. my faith went out the door, down the highway, and caught a plane to timbuktu. i did things i said i would never do, and i didn't care. and to some extent, i still don't. my grades went down the drain, and i lost what little enthusiasm for school i had. so much so, that i ended up cussing out a teacher (at abilene christian university, mind you) when i got back. he totally deserved it though, and luckily i had the entire registrar's office on my side (that's where i was working when papa died)

now, i grieve on days like this. on days when everything seems to be going wrong. when "remember when" or "the dance" come on the radio. when i see a car or movie or t.v. show, or hear a joke that papa would love. when jake talks about papa. when i look at chablis and think of how much she looks like papa's car lot dog, pepper.

i can't bring myself to go to the cemetary anymore. and that bothers me...

i'm so ready to heal up and hair over....does it ever happen?