My Dad's Death...

It came the way it sometimes does--as a phone call. My phone was vibrating while I was sitting in a movie at The Bijou with my girlfriend Teri and my son, Stuart. As we walked out of the theater, I listened to the message from my mother and she needed an immediate return call.

My Dad was only 66 years old and while it wasn't an absolute shocking surprise, it was sudden and unexpected. We will never know exactly what happened and we are all okay with that. It was one of his very strong wishes not to be subject to an autopsy.

Teri and I got to the moutainside and my parents home on Thursday morning, honoring my Mother's request to have the night to herself. The past week has been heavy, intense, and at times silly, funny and slow. We have run the gamut of emotions and with the arrival of my sister (who lives in Brooklyn, NY) and my brother and his family, we all rallied to try to do the best we possibly could to help Mom and the rest of us move through those initial days.

I have only begun to think about grieving. There has been so much to do. I woke up in my own town this morning and felt the immediate pang and need to check on the folks back at my parents' home. The only thing I do know is that the death of a parent changes everything--I have been so lucky to have lived as long as I have with both my parents (up until a year ago, I could also claim to have all my grandparents as well.) Three deaths of close relatives--both my grandfathers and my dad--in fourteen months has been almost inconceivable. However, I know I am still fortunate and that I felt incredibly blessed to be surrounded by family, friends, and loved ones as we all started to wrap our heads around a world without Ron Rodley...