He never made it to Boston.

http://www.semara.org/k1ibr.html

A couple of things I've learned over the past dozen days. Time doesn't begin healing for a while... in fact, the time going by is making things worse. It feels like a greater distance is being created by the number of days my father has been gone. It's making me miss him more, and if time had a pause button, I'd push it. Because I'm pretty damn weak at this point. I'd pause it in order to build up some kinda strength. The days just add up to more time I haven't talked with my pops. Everything feels off kilter. Everything feels like out of sync. I'm a freakin' mess, in a fog, but somehow it's only making me work harder, think slower, and although inside I feel slow-motion, I'm busy-busy-busy in spite of being more tired than I've ever been in my life. I want to sleep for a month.

I've learned that, as usual, when something sad happens, something brutally sad and unfair, I, as usual, tend to run away in one way or another. Physically and/or mentally. We're going to Florida for a few days. Initially, we were going to use our tax refund money for plane tickets to florida for Christmas 2007, but as it became more and more obvious my dad was going to die, all I could think of was the big tree in Ken's dad's front yard in Florida. All I could think of was the sound of the boys laughing in the fields behind Ken's dad's house. All I could think of was quiet foggy mornings in Florida. And that matches my mood... quiet and foggy. All I want to do is run, run, run away. Even knowing the ol' 'wherever you go, there you are' aspect. I know thoughts of my dad will be with me in Florida. I know I can't run away from any of this. But I do know that there's a calmness there that will help me to come to grips with all of this. Thankfully, Kenny and the kids agreed that running away to Florida was a fantastic idea, and nobody poked fun at me for being such a pussy.

I learned that my children are incredibly strong and capable of handling things a lot better and maturely than I ever could have fathomed. I learned that my dad's family is the most amazing, eccentric, intelligent, funny group of people that far surpassed everything I already knew about them when it comes to coping with life's tragedies. I'm positive the only reason I am currently not in a straight-jacket is because of the incredible family I'm surrounded by... as well as my dad's phenomenal foresight and logic to put into place so much dark humor post-death situations, to help me cope. Although I'm amused, highly, by my dad's antics, which I'm pretty sure he put into place only weeks prior to his death, I'm more in a sense of awe of his intelligence now than even before his death. Not that prior to his death I didn't respect his wisdom and logic... but it's grown, which I never would have figured to be possible. I've enjoyed the challenges and the adventures he's had me embark upon. It's been and continues to be an honor to be Bill Miller's daughter.

This Sunday I go to see my dad's ashes. It will either thicken the fog or lift it; I just don't know. Either way works, I can function in either scenerio, so it's a reverse catch-22.


There's so many moments from the six weeks of my father's final journey that I want to write about. Someday I will.