My Father

Wade H. S. Barger

(1940 - 2009)

My father passed away on Saturday, July 11th. He had been in the hospital for several days and despite all efforts to regulate blood pressure, blood sugar, and the frequency of diahrea (sp?), he just didn't improve. Finally, his heart just gave out on him. He'd been on chemotherapy since January and was just miserable. Although he kept his sense of humor to the end - joking with the nurses and us.

The memorial service was Wednesday, July 15th, and I realize that basically people come to those things for the living, but still there were people there that we hadn't seen for years and it was really touching to see everyone. Dad wanted to be cremated and for the service to be a party, instead of a depressing funeral. We did our best to follow his wishes and I think he would have been pleased.

I've been contemplating all week what to post in my blog regarding Dad's passing. And decided the best way was to share him with you. It may be a work in progress, as things will come to me in pieces, I'm sure, and also the tears will overwhelm me at times, too. But here goes:

Wade Barger was born in 1940 - the youngest of 9 children, only the second boy. Like me, I'm guessing he was a little spoiled. And like me, he was at home while the older children went off and got married and had children of their own. He grew up in a small town in Southern Illinois and a couple of years ago, he and I were driving around down there taking the tour of his childhood. Around every bend there was a pond where Dad went fishing or old Mr Whojiwhatsi's farm where Dad got into some sort of mischievousness with his posse. Honestly, I wasn't paying all that much attention and of course I regret that now, but what I took away from it was the sense of fun and humor that I saw in him everyday.

One of my favorite stories about his childhood was that when he was 5 or so, he, Granny and Grandpa Barger trekked out across country to go visit some relative in California. When they got to the Arizona/California border, they discovered that there was some law prohibiting taking produce into California and they had a bag of apples in the car. The three of them sat on the side of the road eating all of the apples instead of dumping the apples. I have this picture in my head. :)

Dad and Mom met in high school in biology class. He was the country boy and she was the townie girl. They ran off and eloped on April 1st of their Senior year, 1958 - yes, April Fool's Day. What a joke on them, eh? They moved to Washington DC after school and took jobs with the FBI. In 1961, they had what I like to refer to as their "starter" children, my twin sisters, Holly and Haley. Of course they were able to upgrade to their Cadillac child, ME, in 1968. I put this picture in because #1, I can; #2, I'm adorable in it; and #3, because my sisters will be thrilled! :)

We moved to Wadesville, Indiana in 1971 when Dad's job transfered him to Evansville. Me, being a city girl born and bred, I did not care for the country. In fact, I've been told that for the first year that we lived out there, I wouldn't leave the house alone - too scared of bugs.

In Wadesville, we had a big garden and Dad loved working in it. In fact, some years they planted upwards of 40 tomato plants! That man loved his tomatos. In fact, near the end, when everything else didn't taste that good to him, I brought home some tomatos from Mayse Farmers Market and sliced one up for him and he enjoyed it a lot.

Dad did his best to warp me starting at a young age. There was this radio comedian, Stan Freberg. Mom and Dad had a couple of his albums and we listened to them frequently. Because of Dad and Stan Freberg, I can't hear about the Gaza Strip in the news without singing, "doin' the Ga-ga-Gaza Strip!" Sorry, you'd have to know Stan Freberg to get it.

When Mom and Dad retired from American General in 2004, the Sibs got them a gnome as a retirement gift. See, Mom and Dad planned on travelling and I think the thought was that the gnome would stay behind and guard the place while they travelled. Quickly Gnarley the Gnome became Dad's good friend and he travelled along with Mom and Dad. Gnarley and the 'Rents travelled to Alaska and Canada, to Texas, to the beach. One year, for the ubiquitous Christmas card letter, dad wrote it from Gnarley's point of view and it was hysterical. Although I'm not sure what the people who received it thought.

In the last few years, especially after we knew that the cancer was back, he would call me at work, just out of the blue and for no particular reason. He started making sure he told me that he loved me before we hung up each time. I think it was during this time that he went from being my father to being a good friend, too.

I woke up one morning between Christmas and New Year this past season and I knew in my heart that Dad wouldn't be with us in 2010. I only mentioned this to one person, my friend Becky. She told me #1) not to dwell on that, of course, because it might spoil the time I did have left with him; and B) to jealously hold onto every moment with him that we were given. One of my biggest fears, as I think I've mentioned before, was losing either or both of my parents. My theory being that I'm too young to become an orphan. And whenever he'd talk about being ready to go or about how we should do things after he was gone, I'd tell him that he couldn't go yet. But then in February, after he was in the hospital, he called me into his room one evening and we had a heart to heart. I think that conversation was one of the best gifts he could have given me. I no longer felt the fear at the prospect of losing him. And I tried to spend as much time with him and Mom as possible.

Well, so I don't know if this makes sense or is just me really rambling. Hopefully, I've shared my Dad - a loving, funny, if rather wacky guy. He will be missed.