My dad died 14 years ago today. His name was John. He died when I was 14, so now I've been alive for as long without him as I have with him. Strange. He died of a heat stroke. I don't remember everything that surrounded that event...I should probably pull out my old journals from
high school, (but that could be a scary thing, too! ). From my 14 year old memory which I know isn't all correct, I can remember that my mom was going to visit her sister, Leslie, down in Vallejo, and my dad was going to stay with us...a little background here...he and my mom had been separated for about a year. He struggled with alcohol and he had to leave. Being 14 at the time, I don't know all the ins and outs of the separation...probably a good thing. I do know that he was close to coming back home and was really trying to fix his problem. He was staying with my Grandma Shirley and he was coming home for the weekend to stay with us. I was planning on staying the night at a friend's house and so I went, but I remembered that I had left a gallon of ice cream on my mom's bed and so I called home for Erin to put it in the freezer, and her friend, Shannon, answered the phone, and was kind of frantic saying how they had been trying to get
ahold of me but couldn't find the phone number and that my dad had been in an accident and was at the hospital and that it was pretty bad. I thought it was drinking
related, but then she said it wasn't a car accident but that he was in the ICU. My friend's dad, Rick, took me to the hospital immediately. The Woodcock's really took care of me during that time. I remember him just asking me if I knew what the ICU was, and I didn't, but he warned me in a very loving way that it was not a good place to be. I walking into the hospital, going up the elevator, and Rick just telling me how brave I was and how calm and composed I was for such a scary situation. I remember seeing my Grandpa Dewey and my Grandma Shirley. She was crying and saying something like, 'He's gone. He's gone." He was in a coma. He had had a 108* temperature and I knew that they were trying to bring his temperature down. I can't remember when I went in to see him. I don't think it was right then. I think it was later in the weekend. I remember crying on Summer's bed. I remember spending time with the Porter's. I remember playing
Yahtzee with my grandparents. I remember seeing my dad all hooked up to a bunch of tubes and breathing machines. His body was very swollen. I remember feeling concerned that he was in pain, but my mom said that he wasn't. The image is very clear in my head, but that part is kind of a blur. It was really hard seeing my very strong dad be so sick and incapable of doing anything.
My dad was 6'5'' and just a big guy. I think he was pretty intimidating to other people, but not to us. He had three girls for crying out loud. Deep down through his rough exterior was a very soft heart. He could fix anything and was often helping people. He loved to fish and be outside. I remember one time going fishing with him down below the dam and I was so afraid of seeing a snake, but I remember having the thought, nothing can hurt me now, I'm with my dad. He liked photography....at least taking pictures of landscapes. I would think it was so funny when he'd have a whole role of a mountain and valley. He was a really good cook. He would make dinner often and was a great BBQ-er. I remember people always loving John's chili, but I didn't like chili then. I wish I knew what it tasted like because I like now, but as a kid I thought it was nasty. I know he did not like the snow and the cold. He didn't ever come skiing with us, but I remember it being something about how he had spent a few years up in Greenland after
high school and it was just too much cold for him. He did love to swear. I think his favorite word was the f-word--seriously. Kind of funny that i heard so much swearing before. I can hear him whistle through his front teeth and say, "
Lordy Lordy Lordy." I remember laying on his stomach and trying to breath when he was breathing. I can picture him with his brandy and coke sitting in the same spot on the couch and he was just too tall--his knees would come up and he'd rest his leg on the coffee table and it rubbed that spot smooth. And his feet were awful! If you ever thought that my feet were bad you should have seen his. Thanks a lot, dad, for that wonderful trait. He had a few big scars on his legs. I can picture it but I can't describe it. He had these really small
tattoos and I remember asking him about them and he said that he was stupid for doing it and I remember just feeling so sad for him that he said that he was stupid because I didn't think he was stupid at all. He was probably just telling me, you'll be stupid if you ever do that to your body. He had this way of standing in the kitchen while he was cooking and kind of hunching over to be able to see the TV. I remember his standing there a lot. And sometimes, when my grandpa stands at the stove, it looks just like my dad would look if he were able to grow old.
My dad's dad, grandpa Gentry, came out when my dad was in the hospital, but then he left. I think my dad's brother, my uncle
wayne, came too. But they left. I think it was just too hard for them to see him . It reminds me of that part on Steel Magnolias where sally field's character says, 'I find it amusing. Men are supposed to be made out of steel or something.'
My dad was in a coma for 4 days. He had the heat stroke on Friday, June 23rd then was in the ICU until Monday, June 26
th. I can remember it was around 4 o'clock on Monday, I had a softball game, and I saw my mom drive up. I was on the phone with
Terina and I just knew that he had died. I quickly got off the phone and she came in and just said, "He's gone," and I remember hugging and crying and crying. But then I went to my softball game. I didn't know what else to do. I still can't believe my mom let me do that. That's why she's my mom. She knows me well.
After my game, I remember going to my grandma's house. I remember seeing Erin bawling on my grandma's bed. She never cries. She's very good at hiding her emotions, I think that is why that image stands out to me. Man that was such a hard time. My aunt Leslie was talking to me about how it's hard at first, and then it'll be 3 months down the road and it's almost harder because they are still gone and life just goes on and you're just still so sad about it. My mom and her lost their dad when my mom was 11. And it was hard then. I'm trying to think about when it got easier. Time just does heal. It's funny because my sisters and I don't talk about it very often. We were all such awful ages for something like that to happen. Emily was 12, I was 14, and Erin was 16. Not exactly the most mature time of your life. You don't really know how to express things.
I do know that Heavenly Father is real, and even though I didn't know who He was then, I know that He was watching out for me and my family. I don't know all the reasons why we had to go through that trial, but we learned valuable lessons from it. . My sisters and I didn't become closer then during our
high school years, but we are close now. I do wish that I wasn't 14 when it happened. You are just so selfish then. It's not like I was like, Hey dad, tell me all about your childhood and your hopes and fears and dreams. It was like, hey, thanks for coming to pick me up from gymnastics. Let's go to taco bell. I really loved him and I know that he loved me. I know that he had many faults, but he tried to be a good dad to us and took care of us the best he knew how. I just wish my kids could know him. I'm sure it's how my mom feels about her dad. I wish he could take them fishing and teach teach them about the outdoors.
There aren't many pictures of him. He was mostly the one behind the camera, but I love the ones I do have of him. I always think he looks kind of mean in this one. When his hair would get too long we'd always say he had wings. What's up with his muscle shirts?? And he always wore really short shorts. It was the 80's after all.
And oh man--when he's shave his mustache it was like a whole new person. And don't you love how that terrible plant is sharp as a tack, and my dad is all out of focus. In the digital world, there would have been at least 5 pictures taken and at least one would have been in focus. :)
This picture was taken on my grandma shirley's deck.
Another out of focus pictures. At least he looks happy in this one!
This picture was taken in our house on Oro Ave. in Erin's room.
These were his buddies. Gary Shoenthal and Mike Porter. We were all camping and clamming at Dillon Beach. My dad was a seahawks fan. It's like when you're a kid and you know one thing about your parents so every birthday and Christmas you get them something of their sports team and old spice.
This is me and him on the bridge in my grandma shirley's backyard. Lovin' that hair. See how gigantic he was. His poor jacket wasn't even long enough for his arms. Oh, and I just remembered how the dude would snore and grind his teeth. You could hear the grinding all through the house. It's a wonder how my mom got any sleep at night.
I really loved my dad. I still love him. I think about him often. I wish my memory was perfect so I could remember more about him...but it's probably a good thing that it's not. I always think a lot about him during his time of year with Father's Day, this day, and my mom and his wedding anniversary was yesterday. We love you, Dad!
