I woke up this morning hoping the last twenty hours weren’t true. I hoped that I’d be able to turn over, grab my cell phone, and call my Dad. I could hear his, “Yellow?” as he answered his phone. I’d sit and listen about his day, hear the same two or three stories I heard last time I talked to him, and tell him how my life was going. I’d laugh at his bad jokes and mentally file them away to use them later.

Instead, I now live in a world where my father is no longer here. I’ve held my mother as she cried and been there for my brother has he crumpled to the floor in a mixture of anger and bottomless sorrow. I’ve talked to family friends that I haven’t talked to in years for the sole purpose of passing on tragedy. I’ve stood in my Dad’s apartment, listening to the emptiness and expecting to see him around every corner. I hear him sneeze. I hear him laugh. It’s just not real.

Today I get to finalize details for the services, which will take place sometime next week. Due to circumstances and Dad’s general feelings (“Do whatever you like, I won’t be there.”) he will spend his eternal rest inside an urn. He had no signatories or a will, so my next steps are getting the ball rolling on the legal front and figuring out how to deal with his cluttered apartment, which needs to be cleared in a matter of days.

This sucks. I loved my father very much. I know he loved me. The last time we got together it was two days before Christmas. We got a hamburger and saw True Grit. It is a fine final memory and I just hold on to that when I break down. Thank you all for the sympathy, thoughts, and prayers. I have been reading and re-reading them to help keep my head above water. I am truly blessed.

About rhysfunk

Rhys Martin was born in Tulsa, Oklahoma in 1981. In 2009, he sold everything he owned and left the country, living out of a backpack for ten months. He discovered a passion for photography while traveling throughout Southeast Asia and Europe. After returning home, he looked at his home town and Oklahoma heritage with fresh eyes. When he began to explore his home state, Rhys turned his attention to historic Route 66. As he became familiar with the iconic highway, he began to truly appreciate Oklahoma’s place along the Mother Road. He has traveled all 2,400 miles of Route 66, from Chicago to Los Angeles. He has also driven many miles on rural Oklahoma highways to explore the fading Main Streets of our small towns. Rhys has a desire to find and share the unique qualities of the Sooner State with the rest of the world. Cloudless Lens Photography has been featured in several publications including This Land, Route 66 Magazine, Nimrod Journal, Inbound Asia Magazine, The Oklahoman, and the Tulsa World. In 2018 he published his first book, Lost Restaurants of Tulsa. Rhys loves to connect with people and share his experiences; ask him about enjoyable day trips from Tulsa, locations along Route 66, and good diners or burger joints along the way.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s