4/10/34 - 2/14/16

4/10/34 – 2/14/16

That was the entire Facebook post I made at 7:12 that morning. It was a few hours after his death. Lisa had driven down in the dark and cold three hours earlier; I had called her, all I said was “Can you come?” and she was there, and there still with me. By 6:00, the nurse had come and gone, so had the funeral director. I waited until close to 7:00 to call Nick and Lori; no sense in waking them up earlier that than to tell them a piece of news they were waiting to hear.

Then it was time to let everyone else know. Back in 1985, when my father died, that meant phone call after phone call, holding back the tears. Thirty years later, all it took was 17 keystrokes. What else was there to say?

Later that day, I posted the arrangements, the obituary, his photo. But that was later, when I was able to think a little bit again.

Every year around this time, I both love and dread the “On This Day” feature on Facebook. Up pop memories, the updates I posted, the running commentary as the days passed by. The memories are bittersweet. But it is this one post I wait for every year.

4/10/34 – 2/14/16. A short epitaph for a long life, but for those who knew and loved him, there was no more that needed to then be said.