Monday, June 13, 2005

aujourd'hui, papa est mort

With apologies to Albert Camus for changing the first line of The Stranger, but my mother is still alive. My father loved that book, and taught it many times to college students everywhere.

One year ago today, my father died.

With the recent news about my cousin and my changing life, I'd like to reflect on my father's passing. I have reflected on him previously here, so I won't bore you with the details.

I discovered on February 14, 2004 that Dad was terminal. He had a failing liver and his kidneys were giving out. He was not eligible for a transplant and he declined dialysis, feeling the State of Wisconsin could better spend its welfare monies elsewhere.

My father literally drank himself to death. About ten years ago, he had gone through his entire pension from early retirement. I shudder to think of how much vodka that is.

He lived for quite a bit longer than expected after February, and passed away in a state-run nursing home in June.

I spent my flight to Appleton, Wisconsin knitting like a fiend. I waited in the airport for my stepfather to come, but his flight got cancelled. I rented a car and drove to the Green Bay airport, where I knit like a mad woman. My brother's flight was delayed. I never stopped knitting. My brother drove us to Sturgeon Bay.

And I knit.

We took the ferry to Washington Island and scattered the ashes.

And I knit.

My brother and I fought constantly.

And I knit.

I went into quite a depression last year, and knitting was the only thing that kept me sane. Between September and December, I didn't really blog much, because I became even more depressed, but knitting still kept me sane. With everything going on with Napoleon, the only thing that kept me on this plane of existence was knitting and the blogging community.

So, I want to say thank you, to everyone reading this post right now. Whether you were blogging back then or are new to blogging or just happened upon this page by typing "let's fuck on the couch," thank you. I read you and then I became one of you. You have helped me through many difficult times this past year, and my life is better for it.

(this is posted by itgirl and not trixie)

11 Comments:

Blogger Stacey said...

((((Rebecca))))

'nuff said ;)

6:34 PM  
Blogger Janice in GA said...

I'm glad you jumped on the blogging bandwagon. I've enjoyed sharing these bits of your life for the last few months, and I wish you all the best in the world...

6:50 PM  
Anonymous Eilene said...

It has been a really tough year for you & I will pray for you. Wishing you only the best!

8:09 PM  
Blogger Rabbitch said...

Dude. Benefit's been in both directions.

xo
me

3:02 AM  
Blogger Lauren said...

I am glad you came into the blogging community, Becca. I know it has been one hell of a year for you.

Take care.

8:30 AM  
Blogger Colette said...

I've be honored to get to know you through your blog and I am really glad you are here.

8:44 AM  
Blogger TitaniumRose said...

We live, we learn, we love, we knit, we cry, we knit some more... We're here for ya, always.

11:21 AM  
Blogger Micky said...

I am glad you are here. I read many blogs for a long time. With everything going on, it let me escape into other lives for a while. You are one of those said lives I went into frequently. If others have been a help to you, just remember there are some who benefit from you as well!
:)

11:29 AM  
Blogger Janis said...

Time passes and things change. I am glad that the knitting has gotten you through.

12:59 PM  
Blogger carma said...

In an attempt to not get to weepy, etc. I'm just going to say that you're in my thoughts.

And thank that whatever or whomever for knitting, eh?

12:23 PM  
Blogger hockey mom said...

I somehow missed this in my catching up on my blog reading after vacation.

I have enjoyed reading you and meeting you. I'm glad you've been able to get comfort from the wonderful blog community - it is something to behold.

Take care and {{{{{Rebecca}}}}}

3:41 PM  

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