Hits Just Keep Comin'... In Memoriam AGAIN

If I have any readers left after the shameful neglect I've exhibited, all or most are probably family and thus are, and have been, dreading this post... because they already know what it's about. Perhaps, after reading this section, the rest of you will forgive me. It's been a really rough coupla weeks.

For anyone who is unaware, the Songer clan suffered a devastating loss this January 17th, 2009. That's the day Allison's father Marion, the undisputed patriarch of our little branch of the overall family tree, suddenly and unexpectedly collapsed at home, and later that night passed away in a hospital ICU in San Antonio.

The minute we got the terrible phone call telling us Marion was sick, that he had suffered a sudden cardiac arrest (from Kelly Watson, Josh's betrothed), we immediately loaded up our car, hauled ass outta L.A., and headed east with all possible speed. All possible speed, in this case, was somewhere around 90MPH on I-10. We had quickly debated putting Allison on a plane, but we had no place to put the dogs and she wanted me with her... and I wanted to be there. Josh was already at the hospital; Michelle hopped the first flight out of Dallas and was on her way.

Time was most assuredly not our friend that night. Somewhere in the silent, starlight stillness, under the pitiless desert sky and among the jack rabbits and coyotes of southern New Mexico, came THE WORD. The empathetic, kind, exhausted ICU doc, who had for hours worked so hard to give Marion back to us, gave us all THE WORD at about 3AM and suddenly our lives were changed. Changed forever and now Allison, Michelle and Josh had to make THE DECISION. THE DECISION is a hateful, spiteful closet monster, an ogre every reader of this site dreads, the one we all hope we never have forced upon us. BUT... in the end, THE DECISION, when made thoughtfully and deliberately, is the supreme act of unconditional devotion that can be bestowed upon a loved one. The final gift that one's family can offer. 'Stop the recusitation efforts, no more shocks, stop now, enough, enough...'

And just like that, Marion was gone.

He was only sixty-four years old.

The following week was just a dreamily-recalled ensemble of those classical and customary preparations; questions, answers, tears and regrets, all shared freely between and among family, friends, co-workers...

Then with that sadness, poignancy and finality that takes your breath away... that lost, aimless emptiness you never get quite used to... it was done. Arthur Marion Songer was laid to rest next to his beloved wife, Allison's mother Diane, on Thursday, January 21st, 2009.

Here's to you, big guy. You had vacation time coming anyway, and I'll wager any amount of cash that the fish are bitin' where you are.