October is a Drag

The month of October can be a real drain on me. I will tell you why. Eight years ago on a Sunday night, just as we were settling in to watch the football game, my telephone rang. My Grandmother was on the other end.

She said "Annie? You better come home." I asked her why. She said "Because your Dad died."

I can't even begin to tell you what went through my mind. My Mom called while I was on the phone with her. I think I actually hung up on her. It was an absolute shock. I told my Mom. She was shocked. My parents had been divorced for a few years, yet she was still shocked.

My Mom asked me "Where? How? When?" I didn't know any of the answers. My brother Mike and his wife were in Toronto for their anniversary. My brother Jim was at school. It was about an hour before I called him... because I didn't know the answers.

I am not quite sure what time we picked Jim up. I am not quite sure what time we got to the hospital. I am not quite sure how everything went down, when and where.

I think about it a lot. Especially at this time of year... not the holidays so much. I think about all that has happened in eight years. The things that I wishe that my Dad was here for. It's a terrible feeling to be quite honest. I was only 25 when my Dad died. It hardly seems that he was around for the really good parts of my life, when I started into being who I am today.

The feelings that I felt during that first night, that first week after he died were unlike any others I ever had. I had lost people that had loved before that, but they were older and certainly not unexpected. People get older and they die.

It's figured that my Dad had at least one major heart attack that night. I spoke to him earlier that day... he didn't sound right. Did he really sound that way or do I say that now?

I say that he really didn't sound right. He sounded as though he didn't want to talk on the phone. So I said as much and said goodbye. That was about 2 or 3 that afternoon. Who would have known that it would be the last time that I ever spoke to my Dad?

He had just come to visit me the Wednesday night before. I was having some difficulty with my job and he came to talk to me. That's what I miss... having my Dad to talk to. I still do think sometimes that "I have to call Dad..." it's a good thing and a bad thing. Good because that means that I still feel close to him, bad because it doesn't take real long to remember that it isn't that easy.

That's why October is a drag.