Thursday the 10th was spent finalizing things for the funeral, making arrangements with the hospital and Montana was taking care of where to take my dad after the organ transplants were completed. There was so much to do and thankfully Jake and Montana did so much of it.
On top of everything else, I was helping Wesley's family make arrangements to get back to Montana State. There was just so much going on.
Friday only added to the disaster. It was a really awful day.
Wesley's one and only concern was taking care of dad's things and cleaning out his house. I must have mentioned 15 times that if he just took what he wanted, that Jake and I would take care of the rest later because this was NOT a time sensitive thing. We had a funeral to get ready for.
We were having the funeral in our hometown which was a three hour drive and we were trying to coordinate everything long distance and get ready for the funeral THE NEXT DAY. He spent 30 years living and working there and so many people were coming.
But still, Wes insisted we come to the house and pack it up.
We had to borrow a trailer from a friend. Something happened and the brakes locked up on us on the freeway. It was the classic skidding tires, black smoke disaster. We pulled to the side and as soon as we started driving again, two tires popped.
Eventually we got to Dad's house. We let the kids skip school to see their cousins for one of the first and only times they'd be together. It wasn't long after we got to the house that Wes and I got in a HUUUUUUUUGE argument. The older kids were upset because we were arguing and Jake wasn't sure what to do or how to help.
There were things neither one of us understood about the other and we both said things we shouldn't have. We both apologized but I didn't want to be at the house. I sat on the sidewalk and sobbed like a child for a long time.
I'm really going to miss my dad.
We shouldn't have been in this situation. Why hadn't someone come to my dad's aide when his heart stopped beating and the monitors were going off????? Why hadn't they just intubated him on the Friday that he was desperately trying to tell them he couldn't breathe! He was only 60, he was healthy and everything that could possibly be donated, was. He shouldn't have died.
Montana and I left and made copies of the memorial program and picked up things for the memorial. We brought everyone back some pizza and then ended the day at the park.
I was heart broken and angry.
I still hadn't even had time to write what I wanted to say at the memorial.
