My father's death - Day 1

I thought I had a lot of support during his time in the hospital. I was wrong. I've been deluged by wonderful thoughts, prayers, memories, and offers -- I am humbled.

In the past few years, I've come to understand some essential aspect of life: trust, honesty, love, respect, and more. From this experience, I've now come to know the depths of generosity, compassion, relations across bounds, and how "it's all small stuff".

That being said, I find myself once again limited by the bounds of language and the constraints of my memory. I've been flooded with thoughts and emotions over the past few days and writing captures only a smattering of what I've gained during this time.

My reason for posting further updates on my blog is primarily to promote something that's shown its high value lately, that being relations. The relations I have are so valuable to me and my deepest regret is not honoring the relation I had with my father more than I did. I could go off on that, and I probably will, but suffice it to say, if I could have spent more time with him -- if I could have shared more with him -- I would have. That sentiment is now transferred to you all, those who I'm sharing this with, those I'd like to spend time on this earth with.

What's happened since news of my father's death? Well it goes something like this...

I was en route to El Paso taking a two legged flight: San Diego to Phoenix, then Phoenix to El Paso. My father died while I was in the air before Phoenix. When I arrived, I was picked up by Pastor Patrick Shing, a wonderful man that I was introduced to by family members through church connections.

That reminds me of one of my lame-o funny jokes: Once upon a time, there were two Chinese. Now look how many there are.

Ba-da-bing! I'll be here all week.

So, Patrick took me to the ICU but my father had just been picked up by the M.E. (Medical Examiner). We just missed him by 30 minutes or so. After a couple of phone calls, I got to speak with the M.E. that picked him up. Explaining that I was from out of town, they were open to the possibility of making an exception to their rule of not allowing visitors -- understandably for our emotional and physical protection. I was to call the supervisors in the morning. I tidied up some business with the hospital, then went to the Shing household for a short night's sleep.

Breakfast was quite, but necessary. Many friends told me to take care of myself and I had their words in my mind as I considered blowing off food. I got to meet Patrick and Anita's son, Loktao, and their daughter as well.

I called the Medical Examiner's office and was told that we'd be able to view my father at the coroner's office. We picked up Charlotte and went to the office (now being driven by Patrick's wife, Anita) and had to wait about 20 minutes as, by that time, the M.E. had begun their examination (necessary since my father had been in an accident). They also had us confirm that we were willing to not hold them liable for the effect of seeing him on their premises. After a short time, they allowed us into a viewing room, though we were separated by glass.

Well, I took pictures. I labored over this decision, but this might very well have been the last time I got to see my father's physical body as we hadn't yet decided on final arrangements for him. The act of seeing him reminded me of my experience seeing my brother, Calvin, in his casket. They both looked different than my typical memory because they'd been affected by cancer or trauma. Yet, they were the same people I had known, the same details, the same gut-level familiarities -- this was my father, it was my brother, and I knew this without a doubt.

I had the benefit of holding my father's hand this past weekend. I was unable to do so today. I had the benefit of holding my brother's hand in the casket. It was his hand. Even though I hadn't held their hands in years, I knew the shape of their thumb, the path of veins on the tops of their hands, the subtle twists of their nails.

I stood there looking at this man, his face alone as the rest of him was covered. I saw his hair again as it had been wrapped up to this point. I saw his moustache -- it's the same as mine. I saw the way he cared for his hair - exactly as his always had. I saw the shape of his mouth - indelibly impressed in me from the countless hours of looking at this man, face-to-face, in all different scenarios, with all different expressions.

But he was dead. This man that I had known as a child, who I knew loved me, who I ran through the wringer with my recklessness, who I loved and even hated, who taught me so many things, who showed me what I could avoid, who I made fun of with my brother, who we both fought to be with, who brought me into this world...

I know that I have plenty of time to grieve, to feel the loss.

Oh, since this isn't edited, I get to toss these points of beauty in the mix! Before I left the Shing's house in the morning, I got a call from my niece, Holly. This was after having received messages from my sister-in-law, Cheryl, as well as messages from Dwayne and Amy Wood, my other niece. This was my brother's family and I felt so(!) happy to be able to share this with them. (I love you all!)

So... whew! That was getting heavy. My heart and face were getting heavy! Thinking back on him both in the viewing room and as I type this... whew!

So, we left the M.E. office and went to have lunch with another family, Ben and Sue, the people who were hosting my mother, Charlotte, during her stay in town. I think we hit the best Chinese restaurant in El Paso. For real. :-) I was so hungry, I started eating before anyone else, minor faux pas.

Charlotte and I recalled several wishes of my father's: to be cremated, to have his ashes spread in the Pacific Ocean. We started talking about plans and decided that we needed to get a funeral home in the process. Earlier in the day, I had spoken with Pastor Max Pettit, a man who had lost his wife within the past month and Yet Another Generous Spirit during this strange time for me. He had shared his experience so I had someone to talk to and some ideas to work with.

Making arrangements with a funeral home is one of those things in life that I have never been prepared for. Surprise! In the past, I might have made some snarky comments or had a cynical attitude, but this turned out to be a case of "more small stuff". The cost, the choice of casket, the particulars of the death certificate... I, along with Charlotte, had more important things to consider, such as:

- how important is it that my father looks different than he used to?
- who needs to see him?
- what's my grandmother's maiden name? she was one of the rare cases that had two Chinese names?
- where should we arrange a ceremony seeing as how he knew people all over the country?
- should anyone else be involved in these decisions?
- is there a pecking order if others are involved?
- what about transporting him to San Diego (the most likely endpoint for him)?
- you really can't get this particular casket?
- ...?

I could go on. While I wasn't laughing at all, this situation seems rife with comedic potential.

We asked the funeral home to take possession of his body from the M.E.'s office. A decision did not have to be made at this time. We would sleep on it.

Well, it turns out that I'll be making the decision with Charlotte's blessing. This turns out to be an opportunity for me to take charge of the situation. No battle plans here, but I've got a peculiar set of priorities to consider. Who benefits from a viewing? How much to I consider my uncle and aunt's thoughts on these matters? If I make plans for the sake of others, who would they be?

I honestly didn't know the answers to many of these questions. I didn't have a book of heritage to consult so I don't know protocol. It was time to rest. Both Charlotte and I took some down time. I slept deeply.

For dinner, we all got together at the Shing's for a meal prepared by Anita. She's quite modest, but also a really good cook. Patrick wants to take credit for her becoming such a good cook and we all humor him. I get to see their son, Loktao, again as well as meet Ben and Sue's daughter, Jackie. I got to say a prayer that felt good honoring this experience and all that it was bringing. It was another chance to connect with my Higher Power, something I'd been doing all day long, but from a place of summary and perspective rather than "stay with me".

We got to talking after dinner about beliefs on funerals. Seems like Chinese people generally don't want to see a body preferring to retain their memories of the living. It seems a more Western practice to have a viewing.

I got to call Sarah a while ago. She asked if grandpa was really dead and I told her so. She a very thoughtful child and wished I could be with her, but I knew that she'd be held and loved by her mother. She told me that her sister was on YouTube bailing in a skate video. I told her that I'd hold her in my heart and mind until I spoke with her next.

I'm about to go to sleep now. I promised myself I'd sleep on the funeral arrangemets and I will.

I love you all, even if I haven't met you. I'm grateful to you all that have shared this experience with me. I feel a part of something greater than my single-serving life.