Take Your Dad To Work Day

Dad always said (for as long as I could remember, long before he was even sick) that he never wanted to be put in the ground. We ended up having him cremated. While at the funeral home to make his arrangements, we were left alone in the "planning" room for far too long. We noticed that there were shareable urns in the corner that you could purchase. Just teeny tiny little urns.

I made a terrible joke (I'm sure you are surprised, right?) about how I was going to take Dad to work with me and set him on the desk. If anyone gave me a hard time, I would just point to the urn and tell people "Don't talk to me like that in front of my dad!" My sister rolled her eyes, my mom gave me the "I can't believe you're mine" look and we moved on. 

It has now been three weeks since Dad passed away. My mom and sister picked up his ashes at the end of the week last week and called me immediately:

Mom: Do you want us to drop Daddy off at the office for you?
Me: What? No. 
Mom: Why not?
Me: You told me that was weird and I couldn't.
Mom: You can do whatever you want. 
Me: I can't carry Dad to and from work. ....can I?
Mom: You can do whatever you want, Denisey. 
Me: Don't tempt me. 

We left it at that and Mom put all three urns on the mantle at their house. Earlier this morning, as I was leaving their house Mom yelled out: 

Mom: Don't you want to take Dad to work?
Me: What if he spills out in my bag. There will be Dad ashes everywhere!
Mom: I think it's sealed pretty well *yanks on urn lid* Yeah. You're fine.
Me: I'm such a creep.
Mom: He's sick of being stuck in the house. Take him out.
Me: Fine. Let's go Dad. I can't be lugging him back and forth though. That's weird, right?
Mom: You can just leave him there.
Me: Well, he isn't afraid of the dark. I suppose you're right.

I shoved him into the front pocket of my lunch bag and off we went. It's maybe sick, it's maybe twisted. But either way, it was officially: Take Your Dad to Work Day. My co-workers are good sports. None of them have run screaming from my office....yet. And my friends I have told were pretty supportive. I sent some of them a picture...

 

...with the following caption: *whispers* There he is. And no, he's not the unicorn. 

I took a late lunch and met up with my sister and my Mom. Mom went to the restroom to wash her hands immediately and I leaned over the table and whispered to my sister, "I took Dad to work today, look." I also told her about how Mom said he was tired of being cooped up in the house. 

When Mom came back to the table, I showed her Dad's glamor shot. Then I told her about how I told the story about her making me take my Dad out on a field trip. She's certain that people are going to think she's "whacked out" ....but I just think it proves that we have been, if nothing else, a strong and resilient family. And maybe a little creepy.

She did, however, roll her eyes and give me and my sister "I can't believe your father left me with the two of you" face as we made captions to the picture that included: 

Dad, stuck between a rock and a horny place.

Dad, stuck between a rock and a pink place.
 

For now, I will bid you adieu and remind you: not everyone grieves the same way. I miss my father more than I thought was humanly possible. I had no idea that at times I would feel like my heart was broken in two and I couldn't catch my breath. I thought I was prepared enough that, three weeks after he had passed away, I wouldn't find myself still thinking of leaving work and going home. Because I think of how much I want to just be home, so often. So keep that in mind, as people around you grieve. First, we all still need to laugh. But we need to do it on our own terms. Even if that means bringing your Dad to work in a lunch bag.