lots to write about, obviously.
a warning, this entry contains morbid bits.
I will try to warn.
the long part of this week started on wednesday when I got a call from my mother telling me she and my father had separated, and she was with my grandparents. My father apparently told her he was going to the mountains.
Mom asked him to call his sister, my aunt Linda, and talk to her (let her know about stuff) and he promised to.
This he never did (if he had he would not have done some things, perhaps not this soon at any rate.) and Linda is partially devastated due to it.
I wanted to see my mother that night, but she was emotionally/physically drained and couldn’t handle being around more people than were already around her, so we agreed to meet the next night at gramma-and-grampa’s. This would be the first time my grandparents met TJ, in addition to trying to be supportive and other things. It went surprisingly well all things considered, and a few events made it very scary at certain parts. There was a gallon-jug of hydrogen chloride, 31.4%, in the side area of the backyard. My grandparents have been living in the rental house for four months, ever since the morgan hill fire destroyed their home, and the entire place was pretty not-filled with lived-in junk, so grampa/gramma would’ve noticed this jug sitting there with nothing around it. We still have no idea how it got there as my grandparents have no use for such things. At any rate, peter was exploring it and somehow managed to break the bottom of it so that its contents started seeping out onto the ground. It was bubbling as it mixed with the vegetation, and steaming up above the fence, so the neat bubbles in the grass must’ve looked pretty appealing to a three-and-a-half year old. He stuck his paw into the bubbling mess (we speculate) and got burnt/hurt, so he put the hurt paw in his mouth to make it feel better. When I found him, his mouth was smoking, and there was a sulfuric scent to the smoke, so TJ mentioned coals and I thought that could be cept gramps has a propane grill, not a coal one. It wasn’t coal obviously so I explored where peter had been and found the HCL. Fortunately no real harm was done and the HCL inside peter was diluted quickly enough, and efficiently enough, that he is still alive and kicking as I type this. One disaster averted *phew*
finally finished stuff at my grandparents and set out to do the thursday-video-game thing around 6:30 or 7pm, after making sure mom and peter were happy/settled and none the worse for the wear.
I didn’t really think too much about it after that because I was coming to terms with the two of them no longer being together, and got pretty swept up in other stuff (upgrading DDRs and stuff).
Saturday morning, I woke up kinda early cause it was hard to sleep, so I started working on the site I’ve got on furserve. Around 11:30 ken came in and I told him I’d gotten the account on furserve and was all excited, and he was happy for me, and then he went away for two seconds and came back with the phone. He handed it to me and I heard mom, and I thought she needed to talk for some reason or another so I settled for a long conversation, but instead she said, “Laura, prepare yourself for a shock.”
thinking it might be peter and repurcussions of HCL, I said “alright, go ahead and tell me”
I’ve forgotten her words, all I remember is how I felt when I heard them, and that feeling is one I’m still feeling. Definite shock, hurt, a sense of incompleteness and not being prepared.
“Your father is dead”
“what?”
“he commited suicide”
after that, I couldn’t talk anymore, so I cried and ken was very helpful and held me a bit, then I remembered mom was still on the phone and told her I wanted to get off. I spent about ten minutes crying before realizing I hadn’t really finished the talk with mom, I needed to have more closure, needed to know how/where. I can’t get over something until I can picture it.
“how did he do it? where was he?”
—–(this is where it gets morbid)
he was in the front-seat of his ford taurus, the station-wagon type car we called the “Eggplant” cause it’s a purplish color and really long. He’d attached a vacuum hose to the engine I guess, or the exhaust pipe, something liek that, so his death was pretty painless. I talked with a friend and he mentioned the monoxide would’ve killed him in ten minutes, even less time if he sucked on the hose like a bong. My mom found him in the front seat of the car, not realizing right away that he was dead. She touched his cheek and told me, “it was cold,” then touched his leg and “it was stiff.”
that’s when it dawned on her that he was dead, and I only wish I had been there to hold her.
—–(not so morbid anymore)
I ate up her words, and hung up again. Spent most of saturday in some kind of stupor. I remember ken asking if I wanted to go with him and he mentioned TJ which instantly made me nod. I think I wanted to curl up and cry and be held more than anything, but I was somewhat subdued being near him. Saturday night is when I helped TJ upgrade the ddrs at Metreon to ddr-extreme, that helped get my mind off a lot of stuff, and sunday I went with him to try to do stuff with golf games. Monday I went with my sister to my grandpa’s house to discuss arrangements. Apparently nothing could be released until the signatures of both of us were on some papers, so jessica and I had to make lots of decisions and make sure the rest of the family knew we weren’t out to take from them the burial they’d want for their brother/uncle/son. It was relatively painless aside from a few relatives who weren’t satisfied with things going so smoothly and needed conflict to feel complete, but that was satiated and we moved on.
today I went with linda to the mortuary to sign papers/arrange to have his body creamated and sent to skylawn. the same relative didn’t have enough conflict and again tried to stir things up but we subdued her by saying it was under control, and now she won’t do anything to contribute other than what she already has (which is a very great deal) because she feels “if what I have to offer isn’t good enough, screw you guys”
anyway.
finding things out about my father puts a lot of perspective on things. I was completely shocked on saturday when mom called me, he’d given no indication of ever doing anything like this. Gradually over the past few days I’ve learned new things that are helping me realize he’s been showing signs of it but he’s hidden them by other problems so efficiently we’d never have known until it was too late.
things I’ve learned:
dad has never been married, never helped anybody get their greencard.
dad was never chased around with a butcher knife
dad’s relatives all love him, and have always loved him.
dad lied frequently to get his way, and always had another woman to go to if another one pushed him away.
dad was extremely happy during the short time he was with me, my mom, and peter.
my relatives don’t hate me, my mom, or my little brother, never have and probably never will (unless I instigate stuff or say somethin wrong)
it’s amazing how many people loved dad and he refused to believe it.
I dedicate this poem to him:
not what you’d expect
turn one way,
I’ll go the other
will we meet again?
who knows.
sometimes I’ll follow
other times I’ll lead
say one thing, but
doesn’t mean I mean it
doesn’t mean it’s true
will I ever be open?
will you ever see me?
I want to show, to share
you need to see, to know
will you betray me?
some parts are easy
the I, the love, the you.
other parts are hard.
I find things hard to believe.
what do you mean, you love me?
if my response is slow
don’t go away…don’t stop.
I can’t show how I feel
I don’t know how, don’t know why.
whatever you do, please don’t stop.
the harder I push
the more I mean to pull
I’m just scared here
will I hurt you?
will you hurt me?
it’s in you, I put my trust
the key is there, to hold.
it’s hidden where you can see
is it too heavy? is it too light?
I can trust you, if you find it.
a sea of lies, the bed I made.
each edge sharper than any nail
each discovery disappearing
each part of me, I am not.
you will never know me.
