Seems like a year ago I went to New York to see Pop, watch him die, praise him and bury him. It’s been all of 2 weeks.
After a couple of days at work, we kept our promise w/ the kids – Disney World for spring break. With no time to plan or buy airfares, we endure too-long drives, in-laws in Daytona, everyone else’s children, so much junk food, nice hotel, good pool, bus rides, undoable ride lines in the park, and a really good Muppets movie.
I nursed one beer all through Epcot without talking for 4 hours.
Now we drive back in an hour. Gone from the surreal in a hospital to the horrific of a funeral home to the unreal of family life in Disney – the happiest place on earth.
The plan worked: the exhaustion and distraction of Disney and 10-hour sleeps has made me … rested, but still dazed.
I’m still incredibly sad – not for Dad, but for me. Pop couldn’t get better and now he’s with Mom again. I’ll get better, but it’s going to take a long time. How? It’s written on my hotel room key: It’s time to let me go.
Turn the AC on high, please. Kids, we’re going home.
– Tom Sakell