Pop

Just a clarification for the dream;
...the bodies we are burying are as large as us...
they are difficult to maneuver and we dug holes that are vertical, not horizontal...
(very phallic I am sure)
I am most intrigued by what the "Brother #4's tools" means...
What did he have that the rest of them lacked???

To tiptoe through our paternal grandfather.
I loved him...
I always felt like he noticed me.

I remember the ethnic and racial slurs from our father, but not so much from Pop.
I remember, watching All in the Family...
Archie Bunker used racial slurs and I realized that it was not right...
up until that point I thought it was normal.
Those attitudes had to come from somewhere.

I remember the back scratching...
I remember his calling me "his little chickadee"...
I remember he stroked my palm...which was a little uncomfortable in a weird way...
but I don't remember how I reacted to that.
I remember cracker soup...

I remember their 50th wedding anniversary...It was at the park
We were dressed as nicely as we could be...and had to stay outside.
we couldn't eat until all of the adults had their opportunity to eat what was there.
I remember feeling so unwanted because of that...
I'm not even sure why it bothered me so much.
I believe it was because grandma's family was there and they were rich or something...
maybe that's why I wanted to be rich and powerful someday...
so I wouldn't be stuck outside...longing to come in.

I remember family gatherings that were prim and proper until he and Grandma left,
then the beer would flow.
Kids hiding who they really are to please the parents (even middle aged kids)...similar patterns

I knew when he was physically deteriorating...I was very aware of it and very sad.
He stopped walking to the post office everyday...
he got weaker and stopped going out all together...
I remember him, hoarding his medications, planning an overdose...he couldn't take being weak, dependent, his loss of control of his world.
Then he was put into a nursing home...he hated that.
I remember, when I was in Medical school, he was very wasted and old...
Mom (not even Dad) asked me to write his advanced directive...
they were all afraid to let him die...
I told his doctors to do nothing but keep him comfortable.
No antibiotics...no forced feedings...no IV's... no more hospitalizations...just dignity...
it's what he (and all of his kids) wanted but was afraid to say out loud.
I think that's the best gift I ever gave him...

I am sorry that I can't recall the negative aspects...
That is why your memories are so important to me and this journey.
Don't doubt them or stop sharing them...I see much more clearly at this point than before we started this conversation. Thank you

Maggie