Anyways, I guess the point is... I still regularly dream that he comes back from jail or death or whatever weird thing I dream about and it's extremely disappointing to wake up and come to the realization that it was just a dream and he's not coming back
It's amazing how 40 + years later and on occasion the dreams are so vivid and real, I have to reassure myself it was a dream before I get out of bed, otherwise the feeling will stay with me all day. The other thing that happens is because it was such a violent death, not like a sick family member where everyone says, "...at least he's not suffering anymore." and were now relieved the suffering was over. I was brought up strict Roman Catholic, Catholic school for all but my last one. I knew all the things you were supposed to say. Hell I was an Alter Boy from grade school all through high school and there never were any magic word to console. The people I appreciated the most were the ones who sat with me, my ex girlfriend who I had ran into at the viewing and she was just there, there as a friend and a distraction to keep me busy between viewings and interment, keep in mind there were 5 other funerals goin' on at the same time.
That week between accident and funeral ending with the burial, (there was an autopsy on all 6 passengers) was a drunken drug induced fog and I appreciated the mental relief from all the questions from the cops, FAA, news papers, NTSB and insurance investigators. It was all over the local news for a week, it was uncommon to hear about small plane crashes back then, not many people could afford an airplane much less a new 6 passenger state of the art flyin' machine. I remember lookin' through all the pictures my mom had bought off a local paper's roving reporter/photographer who happened upon the scene and called the fire company and rescue crew but not before he snapped nearly 100 pictures he sold to my mother for $1,500. Amazing how the rats and vultures show up to benefit from a tragedy.
I blew up at a lot f people in those weeks following his death and all the while I'm constantly being told, "...you're the man of the house now Ted, everyone's gonna rely on you from now on. It's your responsibility to fill your dad's shoes. " This was a heap of responsibility to lay on a 15 year old kid, this also triggered the longest depression of my life. I felt responsible for the well being of the family, responsible for the finances and upkeep of the vehicles and house. I was overwhelmed and when the family drifted apart because we had no anchor, I felt like I failed and it was my fault. Took me till I was in my mid 30s to come to terms and it wasn't until last year my mom finally apologized for leaving me home alone after she told me my Old Man and 5 other friends and extended family members were dead. Then she left me standing there, all alone while she went with my uncle and the rest of the widows to identify the remains.
Yeah, it was messed up and I still have issues, there's still a cloud of depression that depends upon the family every year, some are better than others but they all bring their own challenges. When my daughter was born, those early years you want to share with your child's grandparents. First words, first steps, first Xmas, birthday, graduations, wedding, great grandchildren. You see where I'm goin' here? I never goes away, some years are better than others but the dread is always in the distance looming overhead.
The folks here over the last 10 years of me makin' this post have all been very understanding and comforting, they've been a big part helpin' to not fall back into the trap of drownin' my sorrows in alcohol or drugs. Help me to make sure I was there for my family in a way I wasn't all those previous years. For that I'm grateful, more than I could ever express.
Sorry for the rambling, but it feels good to get that story out once in a while.
Never feel bad for gettin' it all out, this thread has been a memorial ramble and remembrance in honor of my Old Man and support by the members who've posted over all those years. I know one thing, keepin' feelings and emotions over tragic events like that bottled up is no good for anyone or the people around them.
He's always tryin' to convince me that hidin' for 42 years was a better option somehow than bein' with his family and watchin' his kids grow .
