Grieving Parent

Tag: Richard

  • Ambush

    Ambush

    Debbie needed something for show-and-tell time at the next Compassionate Friends meeting. She was supposed to bring something that was important to Richard or something he was proud of. The idea was for everyone to show their item and tell the story about what it meant in the life of their child.

    She asked me to think of something.

    Later I remembered Richard’s Frisbee in the trunk of his car. A lover of all sports, Richard often played Ultimate Frisbee. I thought about him smiling while he went all out, full speed ahead, trying to win.

    And wham, the tears started running down my cheeks.

    I wasn’t expecting that. But that’s how it still is, even after 8 months.

    You just never know when it will hit you or what will trigger it.

    I looked out the kitchen window and saw several bright red cardinal birds sitting in the lilac bush. From the sunroom windows I could see a cardinal on each of the bird feeders in the backyard and several more on the ground and in the trees nearby.

    In a Kentucky Wildcat Big Blue family, Richard professed to be a University of Louisville Cardinal fan. I think it was mostly fake. He followed UK closer than UL. But he loved to aggravate his uncle Stuart, his grandpa and me.

    Could all the cardinals have been a sign from Richard that he’s OK?

    Probably they were a sign that it was cold and snowy out, and they were just getting some food where they could.

    But who knows, I’m keeping an open mind.

    I miss you kid.

  • Christmas Memories

    Christmas Memories

    Richard with a snow globeOf our three children, Richard probably looked most forward to Christmas.

    He was four months old on his first Christmas. After we put the tree up we brought Richard into the room and put him on the floor in front of the tree. He lit up just like that tree. He just squealed and laughed. He wriggled and pushed those little arms and legs, trying with all his might to get over to the tree. He loved it.

    As he got older he would always like to go over, lie down under the tree and look up at the lights from below.

    He also loved the little snow globe that we set out at Christmas time. He would shake it up and watch the snow swirl around Santa over and over again. He’s holding one of these in the picture above.

    Last year Debbie bought him a really nice snow globe. It has a wood base and a glass globe. And a music box built in. It was on the desk in his apartment when he died.

    This snow globe was on Richard's desk in his apartment.
    This snow globe was on Richard’s desk in his apartment.

    Richard insisted on following our family traditions. Wouldn’t hear of changing things.

    We still had to put up his stocking every year. Always had to have country ham for breakfast.

    The kids bedrooms are upstairs. When they were young they always had to stay upstairs on Christmas morning until we said it was OK to come down.

    They might wake up an hour before we did, but they had to just wait on the old folks. They’d gather at the top of the stairs and try to peek down. Often we’d just lie in bed and listen to them. They’d be whispering to each other.

    “Are they up yet?”

    “I don’t see them anywhere.”

    “Can you see any presents?”

    “No, it’s too dark.”

    Little by little their volume would increase. Finally they’d give up and start yelling at us to wake up.

    I’d drag things out to tease them.

    “Can we come down now?”

    “No, we have get the tree lit up first.”

    “Hurry up”  “Can we come down NOW?”

    “Nope, I have to get the camera ready.” And on it would go.

    Last year Richard was 22 at Christmas. He still waited at the top of the stairs for the all clear from mom and dad.

  • Richard’s Fruit Salad

    Richard’s Fruit Salad

    The holiday season has arrived. And for us that means family gatherings.

    My siblings, our children and our dogs meet at “The Farm” – my dad’s place.

    The Farm is 153 acres of rolling hills surrounded by creaks. There are ponds for fishing and plenty of woods to explore. The kind of place you can let the kids and the dogs go free. Where they can let their spirits soar. The kind of place you can reconnect your soul to the universe.

    There is a also the house. It’s always been big. But since mom died in 2000 my dad has been expanding it. I guess that’s his way of dealing with grief. It could now serve as a small hotel. Heated with wood stoves, it’s the perfect place for a nice nap after a big holiday meal. Spots on the two couches in front of the stove fill quickly after dinner.

    And speaking of big meals.

    Our family gatherings include plenty of food. Dad usually provides a turkey and at Christmas a ham. Each of us kids bring several dishes as well. From appetizers and snacks to salads and casseroles to desserts, there is something to eat the entire time you’re there.

    Over the years each of our families has taken certain dishes as their assignments – bringing them every year.

    One of our “assigned” dishes has been fruit salad. I usually get the job of cutting up the fruit. This is an assortment of apples, white and red grapes, bananas and mandarin oranges. Debbie then mixes all these together in a big bowl and stirs in some salad dressing.  We might add some pecan pieces if we have any in the house.

    It tastes good. But it doesn’t age very well. Something about that mix of fruit, salad dressing and time doesn’t work. As the day wears on it sort of liquefies and darkens. It gets ugly. Still tastes good, but no one wants it.

    Richard used to complain about it.

    Last year Richard told us he’d make the fruit salad. In addition to the our usual ingredients he added pineapple, kiwi and strawberries. Instead of salad dressing he squeezed the juice from two fresh lemons and poured that over the fruit and mixed it together.

    It was good. It was pretty. And it stayed pretty. People liked it.

    So we assigned Richard the role of fruit salad chef for all future family gatherings.

    This past Thanksgiving we had to do the fruit salad again. We tried to use Richards recipe.  It turned out pretty good.

    But it was missing an important ingredient.

  • Our First Halloween at the Cemetery

    Our First Halloween at the Cemetery

    Richard was a big fan of Halloween. So we had to do a little decorating around his tombstone.

    One tradition at our church has been a Halloween party for the kids. As part of this celebration there was often a haunted house – if there were enough older kids to run it.

    When Richard was in Youth Group there was never a problem getting a crew for the haunted house. He loved running the haunted house.

    Among the stuff still in Richard’s room are his props for Halloween. There is the ragged Dallas Cowboys t-shirt. Full of holes, with no sleeves, and adorned with dried fake blood, he wore it for years. There is all his makeup for creating cuts and bruises. And his big bottle of “blood.”

    And of course the big plastic skeleton. He had it for years. It’s gotten in pretty bad shape. Richard had to duct tape it back together in several places.

    I wanted to take it to the cemetery and sit it up against the headstone. But I didn’t want someone to come along and steal it.

    There was no haunted house planned for this years church party.

    But it would be really cool if Richard showed up and staged one of his own. A real haunted house this time.

    With one very special ghost.

  • Richard

    Richard

    Here’s a quick tip for you.

    If you miss a call on your phone, and don’t recognize the number, and when you call back they answer, “Fayette County Coroner” – your day is about to go in the toilet.

    Mine did.

    It got worse.

    After apologizing for breaking the news to me over the phone, the coroner lady told me they had the sheriff stopping by our house to inform us of are sons death, but no one was home. My wife Debbie was at a class in Louisville that night. I didn’t want her coming home to have a deputy sheriff waiting for her in the driveway. I knew I had to be the one to tell her that her baby was dead. So I called her.

    No wonder I hate phones.

    Our son Richard was 22 years old, would have been 23 at the end of August had he lived.

    Three years before his death, Richard got sick. The whole story is long, but the short version is he had a sinuous infection that broke through his skull in the area over his eyes. It then abscessed into his brain.

    This required two brain surgeries to remove successfully. His doctors decided to not return the part of his skull that formed his forehead because of possible infection. He had to have another operation after all the infection was cleared to replace this bone with a plastic replacement plate.

    The operations left him with scare tissue in his brain, just as a cut leaves scar tissue on the skin.

    This scar tissue was a place that could trigger seizures.

    He had seizures on two occasions. The first time he wasn’t on medication. It’s believed he was being lax taking the medication on the second time.

    Both seizures were massive. They caused his entire body to convulse. They came nonstop. They were medical emergencies and he ended up staying in the hospital for several days after each.  A couple of days in intensive care after the second seizure.

    But he was taking medication – Kepra – and things were going well. He had been more than a year and a half seizure free.

    Richard was a full time student. He had a part-time job. He lived in an apartment by himself. This of course made us pretty nervous. We knew that if he had a seizure in his apartment alone, the outcome would be disaster.

    Richard was very close to his cousin Hannah. They grew up together and went through all of our family big events together. Hannah was graduating from college. Richard should have been too, but he lost a couple of years school work during all his medical adventures. He told Hannah he had brain surgery so she could have a graduation party all to herself.  We were having a family gathering to celebrate her accomplishment on a Saturday afternoon. My wife Debbie talked to Richard on Friday night and he said he couldn’t make it to the party because he had to work. But he might come home on Sunday.

    I sent him a text message on Saturday night to see if he was coming home. He didn’t answer. That wasn’t too unusual – I didn’t know what hours he was working. He didn’t make it home that weekend. I sent him a message early in the week to see how he was. I got no answer. That made me anxious. But there had been another time he didn’t respond to calls or text messages. I got concerned then. It turned out his phone had quit. He was using cheap Walmart phones and they didn’t last. So I tried to stay calm.

    On Thursday evening I sent him another text message from work to see how he was. No answer. More nerves. Then about 10pm I got a call over my radio at work to come to a phone. I looked at my cell phone and saw I’d missed a call. I didn’t recognize the number. But it was from Lexington where Richard lived. I thought maybe his phone was dead again and he was calling from work or a friends place to touch base. I called the number.

    And the nightmare that never ends began.