Seven Months Since Passing and No Tombstone

My father passed away seven months ago, in February 2012.  It's now September 2012 and my father still doesn't have a tombstone.  I had to push really hard to figure out what was going on at the funeral/cemetery offices and they were probably sick of hearing from me, but I figured: my Dad went through a lot.  My family and I, we went through a lot.  This ALS disease that my dad passed away from, it's called "the beast" and as his son, his unofficial manager and his personal representative in most aspects of his care, it is a lot.  I figure, the least we can have is a nice tombstone, memorializing my father in his prime, which was pretty much right before he was diagnosed with ALS.

He was a handsome man.  The photo I used was of him in a tuxedo at my sister's wedding. I had to crop a whole lot out of course– to save space but essentially it came out looking like a headshot of him in a crisp tuxedo and him holding a microphone. He was an MC and a disk jockey in his spare time so this was appropriate. That's all I wanted, was to see this beautiful tombstone with his photo on it to honor the man that I loved dearly who I took care of at the great expense of my own health and social life.  But in our culture, that's what sons do for their fathers if they become ill.  The timing couldn't have been worse.  I was still feeling youthful and immature and had made a decision to reinvent myself by going back to college after a long career in the airline industry, which was crap after the Twin Tower attacks. I had to grow up real fast and emotionally step up to the plate, I admit.  But, I wasn't going to put my father's care in anyone else's hands, especially a facility, which has been taboo in my family for a couple of generations.

So seven months later, and here I am. Still pushing, still fighting to make things right for the memory of my father. But that's ok, it's helped me grow and make me an advocate of the disenfranchised and appreciative of the struggles of the disabled and put in my heart the yearning to help somehow; help and unconditionally love. This is one of the spiritual legacies that arises from having taken care of my father throughout his short but valiant fight against ALS.

I'll let you know when the tombstone comes in.

Never give up.