Chapter 2
Our little quartet stands before the coffin lost in grief, oblivious to the packed church behind us. As I gaze at my dad's face I feel strangely relieved. I touch his hand, but withdraw mine quickly, his is so cold. Still wanting to feel connected, I reach down to smooth his pant leg, but the hard unyielding limb beneath the cloth is equally upsetting. I shift my attention back to his face. Yeah, that's the way through this, concentrate on what's good. Ray did a beautiful job with Daddy. He looks like himself. He doesn't have the facial spread, flat lips, and ashy pallor of the other dead people I have seen. Lord knows I didn't want the last images of my daddy to be of a man who looked dead. I thank all that is holy that he actually looks like he is sleeping, peacefully. Sadly, peace is not what he left behind.
Heavenly Grace is wall-to-wall with mourners, and it doesn't surprise me one bit. Big Jim attracted people like a magnet. Friends from every era of his life turned out for him on this freezing February morning. I lobbied hard against burying Daddy on the 13th. First, I'm born on the 13th and don't care for the symmetry; next, he passed at 2:13am, to be buried on 2/13 is freaky, and the coup de gras..., it's Friday the 13th, just bad juju if you ask me, but nobody did, and like the Great Obituary Debate, I lost this one too.
Quiet as kept Big Jim was one of the most superstitious people I've ever known. If your palms itch your coming into money, don't split the pole, don't walk under a ladder, don't point at a graveyard, he had a ton of these old superstitions. He had pet numbers that he played in the lottery faithfully. He was also the most affable person I've ever known. Evidenced by the amount of mourners lining up behind the mic to share a story or some good deed he'd done for them. I am comforted by those that came in African garb, that is what we chose to bury him wearing; and the friends that came still in their uniforms or work clothes. He would not have approved anyone missing work on account of him. When it was finally time for the family to give our remarks I beat Dena and my cousin Jeff to the mic. I hadn't prepared any remarks, because I hadn't planned on giving any. LaNissa has been working me since we left Philly four days earlier. We left after a hail of angry words spewed like we weren't members of the same family grieving the same loss. I was dumbfounded and bewildered, but mainly, so pissed off that I preferred to drive the two hours back to York, then spend the night at my father's house.
February 5th - 8th
The weekend has been brutal. An unrelenting siege on our mental strength and physical stamina; topped only by the tortuous week before it. First it was the nerve wracking race from York to Philly. I was so beside myself I actually got lost. I've made the one hundred and one mile trip, one hundred and two times. I can drive it in my sleep, and have in various states of consciousness, but tonight I am racing death. I have to get to Temple University Hospital before they stop the vent, the only thing holding my daddy to this world. I have to get there in time, I just have to; he can't go before I say goodbye. So missing the Valley Forge exit on the turnpike only adds to the panic churning in my gut. I added a full 45 minutes to my trip and am sick with fear that I won't make it in time. Once I get my bearings I fly down the Schuykill Expressway. I'm in full, 'Jesus take the wheel' mode, and please get me there in time. When they say God can make a way out of no way..., Baaby, if I wasn't a believer before, I am now. No traffic on the Schuykill, I don't care what time of day, that just don't happen. Before I know it I'm on the Roosevelt Expressway. I jump off at Broad St heading south. I speed past Hunting Park, Erie, and park between Tioga and Ontario, then sprint for the entrance. Jimmy meets me at the door of the ICU and we walk back to the family room. The doctor is waiting there with Audree and Dena, and it seems they were waiting for me to arrive before any action was taken. I am all at once relieved and annoyed; thinking, y'all couldn't let me know? I was breaking land speed records trying to get here, but oh well, let it go. The big picture is that I made it here, in time. Jimmy won't come all the way into the room. Me, Dena, and Audree are all the way in, and probably in the way, but oh well and so what. That's Big Jim Goodman in that bed, they will have to drag us away.
Dr. Moss gives it to us straight, there is nothing else that can be done. He was down too long, the damage is irreversible. The staff tells us to take all the time we need. But we don't need long. Without saying anything we all know he would never want to live this way, because this isn't living, this is just existing. Making the decision wasn't hard, what was hard was accepting the decision. Once they extubate, and straighten him up, they allow us back in his room. Once again Jimmy is hanging back, but that's ok, we have to get through this the best way we can. Me, Dena, and Audree are, again, all over him, holding his hand, wiping his brow, kissing his face. I can hear him in my head telling all of us to 'get away from me, you're making me nervous.'
Dr. Moss gives it to us straight, there is nothing else that can be done. He was down too long, the damage is irreversible. The staff tells us to take all the time we need. But we don't need long. Without saying anything we all know he would never want to live this way, because this isn't living, this is just existing. Making the decision wasn't hard, what was hard was accepting the decision. Once they extubate, and straighten him up, they allow us back in his room. Once again Jimmy is hanging back, but that's ok, we have to get through this the best way we can. Me, Dena, and Audree are, again, all over him, holding his hand, wiping his brow, kissing his face. I can hear him in my head telling all of us to 'get away from me, you're making me nervous.'
He's breathing on his own; and I know we're all saying a silent prayer for a miracle. We know what we've been told, but we know, they don't know Big Jim. If there is anyone who can pull this off, be counted out, but come back with a hail Mary, and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, it's Big Jim Goodman. So after an hour and he's still breathing on his own, when the nurse comes in and says,
"Look, it's 1:30, he's breathing comfortably. Go home get some rest, come back in the morning."
It sounds like a good idea to everyone. Audree and I aren't in the house 30 minutes before we get the call. I had forgotten my scrapbooks in the car; and went back out under the guise of grabbing them, but I really needed to feed my demon. The moment I walked through the door, I knew. Audree is standing midway the stairs with a look on her face, and I know.
"Temple just called...." Was all she had to say. Those three little words and life as I had known it, ended, changed forever, nothing would ever be the same.
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All the work on this site is the intellectual property of the author Diane Gossett
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