April 15 and My Father
It's been four years today since my father, the late Edward William Hosey, died on Holy Thursday, April 15, 2004, at age 75. He was a great husband, father, grandfather, great-grandfather, Buffalo Bills and Sabres fan, history buff/expert (especially the Civil War), Korean War U.S. Army veteran, punster who rivaled Clip Smith on the groan scale and all-around great man.
Except for this year, when Easter came earlier than normal, this season has been a bit of a downer lately; my sister Heather's birthday is April 11, so the added joy we used to feel around now is rather diminished.
As bad as I feel and as much as I miss my father, the worst part of his death was that my mother, Sheila, had to bury her husband and her oldest son, my late brother, Brian, less than nine years apart. My mother had only recently fully retired, and recovered from a minor stroke and cancer, when Dad died, and Mom deserved to enjoy more time with him, even for the performances of what we called the "Ed and Sheila Show," when their idiosyncracies, opinions and tempers would blend over absolutely non-essential issues to the bubbling point, which was eased over when us kids and in-laws would have to burst out laughing.
I cried for the first time in years when the military bugler (an Iraq War veteran, by the chestful of ribbons he wore) played "Taps" at Dad's funeral. I am more numb and dejected now.
Except for this year, when Easter came earlier than normal, this season has been a bit of a downer lately; my sister Heather's birthday is April 11, so the added joy we used to feel around now is rather diminished.
As bad as I feel and as much as I miss my father, the worst part of his death was that my mother, Sheila, had to bury her husband and her oldest son, my late brother, Brian, less than nine years apart. My mother had only recently fully retired, and recovered from a minor stroke and cancer, when Dad died, and Mom deserved to enjoy more time with him, even for the performances of what we called the "Ed and Sheila Show," when their idiosyncracies, opinions and tempers would blend over absolutely non-essential issues to the bubbling point, which was eased over when us kids and in-laws would have to burst out laughing.
I cried for the first time in years when the military bugler (an Iraq War veteran, by the chestful of ribbons he wore) played "Taps" at Dad's funeral. I am more numb and dejected now.
posted by Kevin J. Hosey at 6:52 AM
4 Comments:
Wow. I didn't know it was today. He did indeed go too soon. I send you all my love, even more than usual. I take some comfort in knowing that you are all there for Grandma (known as Grandma, Mom, Sheila, or Great Grandma, and I may be missing some) -- and that she is a very strong woman (probably more so than she gives herself credit for).
You made me laugh out loud -- the Ed and Sheila show. Aaron and I were trying to navigate the other day, and I remembered one of the last trips I took with them, during which they argued for a good half-hour over whether a particular network of map lines were roads or rivers, and then, over whether the blue color on the rivers/roads was a different shade than that on the legend, and that it was probably because someone had left the map out to fade. Ed and Sheila show all the way. The best part was, you could always tell it was with love.
Well, maybe the best part at the time was laughing at them. But later, definitely the love.
Yeah, I was out in a park watching the Cub Scouts throw trout into the creek with the DEC today when I realized it was 4/15. Then for the first time ever, I saw a large woodpecker in my backyard this afternoon. It's usually the small downy one, but this was a pileated one, the size of Woody Woodpecker. Dad would have loved it!
I am also watching the Da Vinci Code, and I saw National Treasure with the kids recently, and I can only think that Dad would have loved these movies with their code breaking.
I will now be thinking of Ed and Sheila Show episodes for the rest of the night and randomly cracking up over them.
Kevin, my Dad has been gone for 29 years and there's not a day that goes by that I don't think of him.
Somewhere in heaven, your Dad is smiling, not because he's happy that you're sad, but because he knows how much you love him!
Mike Miller
Oh, dear, Kim; that is an absolute "Ed and Sheila Show" episode with the map. Dad was really something on road trips; he used to have maps with the exact mileage and his estimated time, down to the minute, between destinations and large cities: "Get to Pittsburgh at 9:56 a.m. Leave Pittsburgh at 9:59 a.m." Mom finally threw his charts out the window one day in southern Pennsylvania.
Dad would have loved the large woodpecker, Heather. And the first time I brought Val to meet Mom and Dad, I had to go in the kitchen to get the big glass serving tray down for her, and we started talking. A few minutes later, we went back into the living room, and Dad and Val were in a lively discussion about Area 51 and extraterrestrials. It took them a few minutes to notice that we were back in the room.
Thanks, Mike, and you're right. We both know how much our dads not only did but still do mean to us, and I know he still checks in with and watches over my mother.
Post a Comment
<< Home