SO THIS SUBSTACK (issue? letter? wtf is an individual edition of a substack called? plz advise if you know) ((okay after googling it i realized its called a POST, which duh amanda) but I DO WHAT I WANT. like miley cyrus circa 2010, i can’t be tamed.
A year ago on september 21st, 2021 my stepdad died. He’d battled cancer for several years, (multiple myeloma), undergone 2 stem cell transplants, countless hospitalizations (including two over christmas), a bout with meningitus, and participated in a handful of clinical trials.
I have absolutely no concept of time. If you’d asked me a week ago how long george had been gone, i would have (fairly confidently) said, “6 months”, so i was a little shocked when my sister erin texted reminding me of the day and that we hadnt gotten our bears yet.
The hospice we used had a program where families can bring in a couple of shirts from the deceased, and they would make a bear out of it. Like buildabear for goths. They told us we could expect the bears in about six months, so i thought we were right on time.
I told her i would call the company to ask for an update on the bears.
Thank you. I’m in the office so id rather not make that call from my cubical. “Hi im calling to check on the status of my dead dad bear?”
The perks of working from home, i responded.
Well, callin these bitches turned into a whole ORDEAL. The number on google just rang and rang until an automated voice was like “verizon wireless cannot complete your call blah blah blah”, so i called the 800 number on the website. I explained i was calling to get the number of a specific location of one of their facilities, and she gave me the number to like, a local hub that could help me with questions about the houston area. I called the 713 number, and my airpods decided to fuck with me. the woman couldnt hear me so she told me to call back. I did and a man picked up. I explained the reason for my call.
What is the patients name?
I answered, and he asked for his date of birth.
I couldnt remember the year, but i am nothing if not a RESOURCEFUL BITCH. So i googled his obituary, which i knew would have it listed. I gave Mr. Man the DOB.
“You aren’t listed as a point of contact, what is your relation to the patient?”
“I’m his daughter,” i said.
“And who is peg? She is the only one listed. “
I told him it was my mom.
“Is she with you right now? Is she in the room? Because without approval i can’t help you”
“But hes dead?” I said.
“Yes, i am sorry for your loss”
I explained that i just wanted to speak to someone at the location where he was idk, hospiced? Treated certainly didnt seem like right word? Treated has a connotation that one will recover or get well, and george had been there to get dead.
He offered to transfer me to the location a lovely woman answered the phone. I explained the situation, that i was lookin for a bear update, and she offered to transfer me to Leslie, who was in charge of the bears. I texted my sister the status of operation bear.
I hope her title is director of bears.
Bears are a big responsibility, its probably a VP level role.
Erin then told me i was now promoted to director of bears in her mind. Which, obviously doesnt mean shit unless its official in writing somewhere, so i told her to update my contact info in her phone accordingly.
I reread georges obit for the first time since it went public and noticed a typo.
Which basically read to me as “George requests you donate to the unhoused (HAHAHA)”
or
“George would like you to donate to the homeless (LMFAO)”
I got a case of the giggles and couldn’t stop laughing. i laughed even harder when i realized LOL wasn’t even an acronym for the church or the nonprofit or anything related to either. I texted erin, who didn’t notice the typo and thought i was calling her our on her use of homeless vs unhoused. when she finally understood she texted me back and said,
why does it even say lol???? did i just fuck up and type LOL instead of LOTS??
i couldnt stop laughing. i laughed until tears came out my eyeballs and sent erin a selfie for proof.
erin pulled up her draft from a google doc to see wtf happened, and smugly discovered she hadn’t made the mistake and someone else must have.
i called peggy to tell her about the bears, and the obit, but was still laughing so hard she thought something was wrong and it took me a minute to find the words and clarify. peggy had just posted a tribute to george on facebook, and out of all the wording she could have chosen, she landed on,
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa32cadba-e909-4418-9b96-ea9d3bca4e81_708x752.png)
i cant let a day go by without teasing peggy, so i told her, “if i died before you, you better not wish me a happy dead birthday on facebook. its fucking weird!” she laughed and countered, “well what was i supposed to say?” i rattled off a handful of examples, like “cant believe its been a year without him,” etc etc. i told erin the same thing, as a backup. i knew peggy would forget this request if and when i died, so i needed a backup.
Erin doubled down on dead birthdays.
now that theres the promise of a bouncy castle… i think ive changed my mine and am down for a dead birthday.
what about yall? do you do anything for your deceased loved ones?
anyyywaayyy, im grateful for my idiotic and hilarious family, who was able to turn a really sad day into one that was still sad, but filled with laughs as well. i think george would have been proud of us, if not a little amused for fucking up his obituary.
BTW leslie, VP of bears, returned my call, but i missed it, so i called her back and left her a voicemail… and NOTHING. someone remind me to call her next week so we can get a bear update.
the NEXT POST will feature some bedazzled stools, and our first pages with lolita’s humby humby.
i fuckin love you and i fuckin love this and i am so excited to read what you write next. i can't believe it's been a year. just based on George's mullet alone, i can tell he was a kickass human. a bounce house full of ashes is insane AND insanely fun :)
I love this. My dad’s 15th death anniversary is coming up in February, and I think this is the year I break out his leather moto jacket that’s entirely comically too big for me and just rock it. Idk if we’ll do anything more formal to remember the day.