The Dead Dad Club

14 Years

noreply@blogger.com (Suldog) — Mon, 16 Jun 2008 19:41:00 +0000

Today is the 14th anniversary of my Dad's death. For those who might like, I posted something about it on my blog.

Dad, 14 Years After

Here's to us all!

Father's Day

noreply@blogger.com (The Contessa) — Sun, 15 Jun 2008 20:00:00 +0000

Well, here it is, Father's Day, again. It's always kind of a bittersweet day for me and it seemed only appropriate to post something here, in the company of my fellow "Dead Dad Club" members. For those of you who are missing Dad today, I'm right there with you. I know that not all of of our fathers did stellar jobs in the fathering department (mine included), but that doesn't mean that we don't still miss them. I mean, I can acknowledge that he wasn't the world's best father and yet still love him and miss him, right? Right. Even though I don't know any of you, I feel that I can be "real" with you here. So, for better or for worse, here's to our dearly departed dads. And, for those of you who are fathers yourselves, I wish you a happy Father's Day. May you always strive to be the father that your kids deserve. (And your kids deserve the best.)

Random intarwebs guy tries to profit off of deaddad.net, fails

noreply@blogger.com (eeka) — Sat, 24 May 2008 17:08:00 +0000

This was in my inbox this morning:

Recently, deaddad.com expired and went into a
domain name auction. We acquired it and, since you
own the .net version of this domain name, we
wanted to provide you with the opportunity to own the
preferred .com version.

Our company specializes in recovering preferred expiring
domains and either selling them to individuals such as
yourself or building out our own web presence on those
valuable domains.

deaddad.com is a pretty darn good domain name and,
the truth is, the .COM is a far stronger version of the
name than the .NET is.

* .Com is the strongest brand on the internet.
When people think of a website, they intuitively
think '.com'. Odds are people trying to get to
your website are inadvertently going to deaddad.com
because they assume that's where they can find you.

* .Com conveys Professionalism that .net & .org
cannot match.

If you'd like to own deaddad.com, you can buy it
now by covering our acquisition costs and a modest profit.

If you have any interest I encourage you to act quickly
because this domain name will only be offered for sale
for a limited time.

The funniest part (except perhaps the irony of randomly capitalizing "Professionalism") is that they want $558 for it! Did he even look at our site? I don't think it exactly screams "up-and-coming-business-with-marketing-budget."

16 years gone and I still miss him

noreply@blogger.com (The Contessa) — Sun, 04 May 2008 09:54:00 +0000

Dec. 1, 1939 - May 4, 1992

Dad's Atlantic Dispersal

noreply@blogger.com (kaphine) — Fri, 25 Apr 2008 21:13:00 +0000

Dad's Atlantic Dispersal
Originally uploaded by kaphine

The boat trip.

Scattered

noreply@blogger.com (kaphine) — Mon, 21 Apr 2008 19:04:00 +0000

Scattered, originally uploaded by realsupergirl.

Wednesday we observed the one-year anniversary of Dad's death. We shared memories, company and a nice boat cruise. We sent him to the ocean as he wanted, and we tried to let him go.

Letting go isn't easy. I've been more emotional the last couple weeks leading up to this. I cry when least expected. He was only 57.

Sunday morning, a dear friend lost her brother of 25 years to a brain tumor. There's just too much loss.

Thanks to for taking some lovely pictures of Dad's Atlantic Dispersal.

Dad's Last Night in Town

noreply@blogger.com (kaphine) — Wed, 16 Apr 2008 02:46:00 +0000

Tomorrow morning, on the first anniversary of my father's death, my spouse and I are meeting my sister and her partner in Boothbay Harbor, Maine to scatter the third of his ashes I brought back with me after his funeral. It's time to let go. I'm ready, and I'm not ready.

Mark Daniel Woodward

August 31, 1949 - April 16, 2007

He was a lousy father, apparently an iffy husband, but a very likable man. He could make buddies anywhere and strike up a conversation with anyone. He always had an entertaining story or joke to share. He was unafraid to try anything. Dad was larger than life, and so is his absence.

Dead Dad in The Onion!

noreply@blogger.com (eeka) — Tue, 08 Apr 2008 02:57:00 +0000

birthday

noreply@blogger.com (Mama Lisa) — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 01:23:00 +0000

My dad was born March 4th, 1939, the youngest of 12 kids. His mom was 51 when he was born, and his dad was 76. He was an uncle to a 12 year-old at birth. He was the tallest of them all, and the first one in his whole family to attend college. His brother who was just older than he was died when they were kids, as did his father, so in a lot of day-to-day ways it was just him & his mom. I wonder how she felt on this day 69 years ago, welcoming her final child, the one who would turn out to be vastly more devoted to her than any of the others. I'll never forget once saying to my father, in a teenage know-it-all snitty snotty moment, "Nothing lasts forever." His eyes welled up and he looked straight at me and said, "That's not true. I have loved my mother every day of my life." It blew me away because he didn't usually say things like that, and he rarely talked about his mother. She died suddenly, three days before I was born.

How?

noreply@blogger.com (Lyss) — Sun, 02 Mar 2008 17:55:00 +0000

A friend was just told that his dad has only a few weeks left. I want to be there for him. But the situation is eerily close to my own experience.
It's bringing up all sorts of feelings of sadness and self pity that I've worked so hard to limit in my everyday life. (They tend to surface on special occasions like weddings, birthdays, and Father's Day.)
How can I help him deal without reliving my own painful experience?

Anniversary

noreply@blogger.com (Lyss) — Thu, 24 Jan 2008 08:00:00 +0000

It is the anniversary of my father's death. His life ceased around 6am on January 24, 2002.

Has it really been 6 years?

I suppose it gets a little less raw every day of every year. I suppose. But some days I'm not sure.

Celebrating New Year's is always bittersweet for me. It's a chance to being anew - resolutions, diets, etc. - but it also brings me a day closer to tearing open that wound once again. January may be about beginnings for some people. But to me, January is about endings.

(In a sick twist of fate, another relative was killed in a freak car accident a year to the day that my dad died).

Dumping Dad

noreply@blogger.com (kaphine) — Wed, 16 Jan 2008 04:08:00 +0000

My Dad's first death anniversary will be in April, and I'm starting to plan his wished-for "salt water dispersal."

I'm not sure how ceremonial we want to be, although I know it will be a very small gathering and we won't be using any sort of officiant.

Do any of you have experiences, recommendations, prayers, readings, or other great ideas that may be nice for this occasion? Or just your own stories would be nice to hear.

Happy New Year!

noreply@blogger.com (Suldog) — Wed, 02 Jan 2008 14:38:00 +0000

Happy New Year!

(I figure it was about time for a posting, seeing as the last one was over two months ago. If your New Year falls on another date, or you otherwise feel excluded/marginalized by the majority celebration, my apologies.)

noreply@blogger.com (Jodie) — Mon, 29 Oct 2007 04:18:00 +0000

I'm pretty sure my dad must be smiling right now, where ever he is!

EDIT: the time is screwy on this post, but uh, it's in reference to THE WORLD CHAMPION SOX!

Because it's been too long since we've had a new post here.

noreply@blogger.com (kaphine) — Sun, 28 Oct 2007 04:09:00 +0000

I've gained weight since my dad died (April 2007). Before his death, I had successfully lost a little weight. But it's back. With friends.

9-30

noreply@blogger.com (Suldog) — Mon, 01 Oct 2007 16:27:00 +0000

Yesterday was my Dad's birthday, as well as MY WIFE's Dad's birthday, both deceased now. In their honor, we ate way too much Chinese food and told some corny jokes. I have no doubt they are pleased to see us carry on our family traditions in such a spirited fashion :-)

My Dead Dad's Birthday Party

noreply@blogger.com (kaphine) — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 19:34:00 +0000

My Dead Dad's Birthday Party
Originally uploaded by kaphine

Here's a late photo from my August 31 party in honor of my father's birthday. He was never afraid of morbid humor, so I figured he'd kinda like our take on it.

Happy Birthday, Dad.

noreply@blogger.com (kaphine) — Fri, 31 Aug 2007 15:05:00 +0000

Today's my dad's birthday, the first since his death in April. I'm thinking of him much lately. It's weird. Weird that he's dead. Weird that time moves on, and the grief lessens. Weird that he feels further away, but sometimes closer, too.

Love Card Day

noreply@blogger.com (Suldog) — Mon, 27 Aug 2007 16:18:00 +0000

Hi, Folks!

Since my Dad is dead, and I have a story (somewhat) concerning him, Eeka kindly invited me to join your august assemblage. I'm glad to be here.

The story is a bit lengthy, so rather than post it here directly, I'll offer you the chance to go to where it originally appeared - my blog, "Suldog".

Love Card Day

I hope you enjoy it, and thanks for having me. As always, it's a pleasure being had.

Jim

Membership drive

noreply@blogger.com (eeka) — Thu, 16 Aug 2007 17:08:00 +0000

Some folks have posted asking how they can join. If you're interested in joining, please leave a comment that includes your e-mail address (disguising it from spambots is fine) or e-mail me at ksanti at gmail dot com, and I'll send you an invite. The only qualifications necessary are to have a dead dad and a morbid sense of humor.

noreply@blogger.com (kaphine) — Thu, 16 Aug 2007 01:26:00 +0000

My dead dad's birthday will be August 31. It's a Friday this year. As it's the first birthday since his death, I was thinking about maybe doing something. Maybe inviting some other Dead Dad Club members in the Boston area to join me. Responses? Ideas? Oh, and I haven't asked my sweetie yet.

A Dead Dad in a Wheelbarrow

noreply@blogger.com (Jodie) — Thu, 16 Aug 2007 00:33:00 +0000

You just can't make this stuff up. Well, I suppose you could, but who would want to?

Wow, two sentences in a row ending with prepositions. I think I might get fired from this blog.

Dead Dad Advice from Carolyn Hax

noreply@blogger.com (Jodie) — Fri, 15 Jun 2007 18:07:00 +0000

Reston, Va.: Hi Carolyn,

I'm an avid reader, and I'm hoping you can help me. My father passed away at age 64 unexpectedly this past March. I miss him unbelievably, and am not looking forward to Sunday. Any advice on how to march on through, and what should I do for my mother, who will probably struggle on Sunday also?

Carolyn Hax: Don't march. Remember him, honor him, celebrate him, cry, but don't march. Think of it as visiting a gravesite. It doesn't change the fact that someone's gone, it doesn't stop the world from turning, it's just an invitation to bring someone to the front of your mind for a while. Since it sounds like he's already there, I doubt Sunday will bring any surprises you haven't already shown yourself you can handle.

Here's the rest of the chat.

Watch out while visiting Dead Dads!

noreply@blogger.com (Jodie) — Sat, 26 May 2007 23:03:00 +0000

By way of Universal Hub:

Boston Police report that a woman who had just lit a memorial candle at her father's grave at Forest Hills yesterday afternoon was in her car about to leave when a guy came up to her, showed a box cutter and demanded she get out of the car. Police patrolling Centre Street in West Roxbury 30 minutes later spotted the car; arrested Jamal Daniels, 26, of Roslindale on a carjacking charge.

Cancer Sucks. . .

noreply@blogger.com (kaphine) — Thu, 03 May 2007 14:38:00 +0000

. . . and so did April.

My father was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer roughly two years ago. It was inoperable, and at the time, his prognosis was six months. He started chemotherapy, bought a boat, and made the most of his time. Even though his treatment was complicated by PKD (kidney disease) and uroligical issues, he responded well to treatment and his prognosis stretched out. Dad used his time wisely, making time to clear the air and tie up loose ends with those he cared about. For this, he referred to his diagnosis as a blessing and a treat.

Just over a month ago, Dad had finished a particularly rough course of chemo which had made him extremely ill. Three months of this treatment only slowed the growth of cancer without diminishing the primary tumor. Over two years, his chemo options had been narrowed to this. He had a month to decide whether to continue this chemo or to discontinue chemo all together. If he continued chemo, his quality of life would be poor at best. During treatment he slept 20 hours a day, he was unable to eat or keep food down, his eyesight was worsened, and his mental concentration was so poor that he was unable to read or do any mental arithmatic. Even conversation was difficult at best. Without chemo his prognosis was six months. Dad was planning to choose quality of life over quantity. No matter what, he was going to die, so why shouldn't he be comfortable and be able to enjoy it some.

The first weekend in April, I received an email from Dad. He had an intestinal blockage, and his medical condition was very serious. He was unable to eat. Suddenly, his prognosis was weeks at best. My spouse and I flew out the next weekend to see Dad. It was shocking to see how thin he had become. But, I was in time to actually talk with him. It was a hard weekend, but I was grateful for it. He was definately on his death bed. At times, his breathing would be so difficult that I wasn't sure the next breath would come. He kept breathing, and I returned to my life, only to make two phone calls a day to see how he was doing.

Finally, on April 16 the call came. It was over.

It's been harder than I expected. I thought I was prepared. I thought I had gotten used to the idea. But really, it sucks that he's dead.