Mixed Metaphors

We bid farewell to our father, grandfather, and great grandfather.

“Someday I’m going to write a book about our family!” — This writer as a defiant 16-year-old.

“I look forward to reading it!” — Our beloved mother

First, I haven’t drafted and posted new content for this blog since the end of October. The past three months have been a challenge and an unexpected journey. Though I’ve not written for my blog, I’ve done more writing during this period compared to what is typical. Most of it communication with bio and chosen family, journal entries, and social media posts.

Instead, I’ve sent email updates to bio and chosen family regarding Dad’s health status, posted news on social media; I wrote a Christmas Eve poem, Elegy for My Father, multiple daily messages, and texts with siblings to plan his funeral, and lastly, a Tribute to My Father which I read at the service.

In addition to our father’s health decline, hospitalization, return to his home with end-of-life care provided by my Tag Team Sisters, Kelly and Tami, and legal, financial, and funeral-planning by our brother, Rick, and finally, his death, my own health was impacted, both physically and emotionally. After visiting Dad at the hospital in November, I contracted my first ever bout of COVID right before Thanksgiving. Next, during a two-week break from work between Christmas and New Year’s, I came down with the flu at Christmas.

Richard Frank Lenzke, Sr. died at his home on December 19, 2023 at the age of 93 with his youngest daughter Tami at his side, the same goodbye she gave our mother when she passed on January 23, 2016. During January 4-5, 2024, we bid farewell to our father, grandfather, and great grandfather. The Last Goodbye.

Full disclosure: This reminiscence reflects my personal lived experience and emotional response to the events. What I’ve learned as a writer who often chronicles my family’s history and experiences, we each remember our growing-up years differently, the memories we hold unto, and how we reacted. In my family, my parents had three sets of children, each set a pair, a year or two apart, then another pair six or seven years later, and lastly the final pair after another hiatus making babies. The pairs, Linda and Roz, Cindy and Rick, and Kelly and Tami. I share this because we each grew up in virtually different families. This is my story and last goodbye. 

Three Goodbyes

I consider myself lucky. Many of us hope that we can be present with a loved one at the end of their life. We also hope to share some final words, a last goodbye, to not leave unfinished business or unspoken words. One can never fully prepare themselves for the grief journey that lies ahead, however, we hope to have meaningful conversations and closure rather than regrets. I’m grateful. I had three goodbyes.

Hospitalization

Following is a summary of the events that led to Dad’s first hospitalization, beginning with my in-person visit before he was hospitalized. I preserve this for myself and my family, and hope readers find value in this family story about death and dying, holding on and letting go, and grief and gratitude.

• On Friday, 10/27, I drove to Racine and spent a wonderful day with him, telling stories and sharing lunch. Dad liked fried chicken and remained a fan of KFC. One reason, I order extra sides for him, mashed potatoes, and Cole slaw, which he enjoyed as leftovers.
• Near the end of our visit, Dad said he was warm and asked if I was too. I checked the thermostat (76 degrees) and asked if he wanted me to lower the temp so the A/C would kick-in. He said no, that’s the temp he keeps it set at. I said that’s probably why we were both warm. In hindsight, I missed the opportunity to take his temperature to see if he had a fever.
• On Monday morning, sister Kelly called and asked how I was feeling. Earlier in the week she was sick and just tested for COVID. The previous weekend she and her husband Bill had a football watch gathering with friends, and one of the guests tested positive for COVID after the party. She wanted to make sure I was okay.
• Kelly talked with Dad whose symptoms worsened over the weekend. He had difficulty breathing and was not sleeping well. Kelly assumed he got COVID from her, but had not tested him. She (masked) brought him some orange juice, his favorite lunch, and grabbed his laundry to take home, so she wouldn’t expose him anymore than she may already have.
• Kelly spent the rest of the week checking on him, making sure he ate something, and stayed hydrated, though he didn’t have much of an appetite and wasn’t sleeping well. She monitored his oxygen and temperature.
• On Saturday, 11/4, Kelly had a conversation with Dad that he needed to go the hospital. He first resisted then acquiesced. He was rushed to the ER at Ascension All Saints Hospital in Racine, Wisconsin.  He spent the next the next four days in the ER until they could find him a room.
• They gave Dad a battery of tests. He had a lot of fluid in his lungs and though they took a CT scan and chest x-ray they couldn’t get a clear picture. He was tested and did NOT have COVID.
• They put a chest tube to drain the fluid from his chest wall and over the course of the past few days slowly drained the fluid, which instead of a straw-like color, was red.
• As doctors were trying to diagnose the cause, Kelly shared that it could be his heart, or lung or liver cancer (Dad was an undiagnosed alcoholic). He had AFIB symptoms and was treated with potassium and prescribed a blood pressure medication, Metoprolol.
• Tami arrived at the hospital to fill-in for Kelly who had to return to work the rest of the week. They had taken out the chest tube and did another CT scan, however it was still not clear enough and there remained more fluid in his lungs. They reinserted the tube to drain more fluid, though it drained very slowly.
• Given all the procedures and lack of a clear diagnosis, Dad’s vitals were stable, and his spirit good. His appetite returned. He ate his favorite foods, though he was not a fan of hospital food. Kelly and Tami brought him some of his favorites, including a chocolate eclair.

• Nurses and O.T, got him up and out of bed for daily walks. He referred to the nurses as ‘his angels.’ He practiced putting on his socks and pants with the O.T. He didn’t want to go to a rehab center, so they’re making sure he can manage basic self-care.  Dad told stories to anyone who would listen and when he walked down the hallway, he was received like a celebrity!
• Kelly made sure his home was ready when he was discharged. Clean laundry, groceries, and fresh sheets on his bed. Kelly did a tremendous job caring for him, and Tami too, as she gathered information, took photos, and listened to Dad’s stories.
• Tami stayed with him. Kelly’s appointment schedule (she’s a hairstylist) was a little less busy so she checked in on him a couple times during the day. Our brother Rick arrived on Friday and helped Kelly and Dad over the weekend. I’m on standby, and since I’m not strong enough with my bone-on-bone osteoarthritic shoulders, I’m not able to physically help him when he returns home. I volunteered to help research and collect information, plus talk with his social worker.
• Our niece, his granddaughter Casey, stationed in Italy sent him flowers, and his niece Jennifer and spouse, Becky visited him in the hospital.
• Still no final diagnosis. Tests showed conflicting results. CT scans suggested lung cancer, yet the fluid from his lungs didn’t align with that interpretation. Dad had some discomfort and pain related to the chest tube and the endless number of days draining fluids, which continued to accumulate. The doctors thought that he may need to have a chest tube and drain inserted when he finally returns home.
• His blood pressure was low over the weekend and he was dizzy after minimal activity and had to forgo his walk, though he was still able to wash and dress himself. They adjusted his BP medication. His chest tube somehow came out and there was blood on his hospital gown and on the floor. After therapy he ate a little and shaved. The tube remained out, the site had been bandaged to prevent infection, and when Kelly left, they had not inserted a new one.
• His appetite diminished and he experienced a gag reflex and dry heaves. Doctors were unsure what was causing it. It may have been related to medication he was taking, or his anxiety.
• Given how long Dad had been in the hospital without a diagnosis, and though he had a bit of a setback and some pain, his attitude remained positive and optimistic. Kelly said all the staff loved Dad and that he would win the ‘Best Patient Award.’ As Kelly shared information with him, even the possibility of lung cancer, his response was, “I want to live until I’m 96.”
• Dad had family by his side throughout his stay. Most of the care fell on Kelly’s shoulders (and heart), though Tami and brother, Rick, each spent a day with him, and Kelly’s husband Bill as well. Kelly’s kept the family informed. My turn to be with Dad was on Wednesday, 11/15. I couldn’t wait to see him, listen to, and tell stories with him. I wanted to find out the significance of his desire to live to 96. I think his grandmother, Helen Tillie Annie Flanigan lived to 95, and so did his eldest sister Betty.

First Goodbye

I arrived at Ascension All Saints Hospital. It was good to see Dad in-person. We started visiting and he gave me a report about his conversation with his doctor before I arrived. He told me they were planning on discharging him.

A friend of Kelly’s stopped in to visit Dad. Standing behind him was Cindy Archer, my former long-term partner, and a chosen family member. What a surprise! Cindy and I walked into the family lounge and I gave her a quick update about Dad’s status while Dad visited with Kelly’s friend. We returned to Dad’s room and he was happy to see Cindy but didn’t recognize her at first. We pulled our chairs close since he’s so hard of hearing; we were forced to yell.

Dad’s lunch arrived, and I followed Kelly’s instructions to cutoff the crusts of his grilled cheese sandwich and cut it into little pieces. He only took a couple of bites and didn’t want anymore. “The grilled cheese wasn’t like Mom’s,” he said. He drank his Vanilla Ensure and enjoyed his strawberry ice cream. Dad was very sweet with Cindy and described her as my second marriage. After she left, Dad and I had an intimate talk. He told me that when they did his intake at the hospital, they asked about the medical history of his family members and children. When he got to me, he announced, “My eldest daughter Linda is a lesbian!”

Dad shared with me his initial feelings about my lesbian identity, his acceptance and unconditional love for both me and welcomed my partners and their children as family, plus his gratitude that I had lots of friends in my life who care for and support me.  We had this conversation at a high volume due to his hard of hearing issues so everyone in neighboring rooms, hallway, and nurses station, could hear. Funny, yet grateful.

The next day, on Thursday, Tami took over since Kelly had to work. Thursday was a whirlwind day with things happening quickly which we really weren’t prepared for. The hospital and doctor would discharge him if he met the basic requirements to be fit to return home. Medicare would not cover additional days without a diagnosis and a determination that he was fit to return home.

Dad did P.T. O.T, took walks, was interviewed by a social worker, and they decided to discharge him at 3:30 that day. Dad wanted to go home and was not a medical candidate for a rehab facility. Since Tami was for the most part on her own, because both Kelly and I were working and unreachable at certain points, Tami arranged, with help from Bill, his transport home.

As the photo depicts, he was happy to be home back in his favorite chair. Tami stayed with Dad around the clock beginning Thursday night, and returned home when Kelly took over. The family worked on a plan for round-the-clock care for him. Kelly would stay with him the weekend through Monday, and take Dad to an appointment with his primary care doctor on Tuesday. Tami stayed Tuesday night and Wednesday when Kelly worked, and returned home Thursday morning to be with her family for Thanksgiving. Kelly took over. The family created a schedule of care for as long as he requires and we’re able to help.

Second Hospitalization

The most difficult days were ahead, as we, as a family, put a plan together for our father’s care. What made it extremely challenging was determining whether our father was actively dying or not, whether he would be able to live in his home with additional care, or move to an assisted living facility or nursing home. He wanted to remain home. Following is a summary:

• Tami and Kelly strategized on Dad’s care plan with some input from me. My role was mostly researching options for additional care including out-of-pocket home care. I talked with my brother, Rick, to discuss Dad’s finances if he needed to use some of his savings. Dad was clear however, that he hoped any money from his estate would be his children’s inheritance. I also talked with the social worker to get recommendations for additional home care. It quickly became apparent that we most likely would not have the 24-hour care for him from family that he needed. Kelly and Tami met with a rep from home nursing care to schedule the days he would receive care and schedule follow-up doctor appointments.
• Tami returned home to Madison that Saturday. Throughout the weekend we were in continuous contact about Dad’s status.
• I developed the symptoms of a cold on Saturday, which worsened over the weekend. I had not been sleeping well and I was run down.
• Sunday evening, Dad woke up from his nap, and fluid was leaking from the site of his chest tube. He was experiencing pain and discomfort. Kelly and her husband Bill returned him to the ER.
• Monday morning, I decided to take a sick day from work to recover. As a precaution I took a COVID test. I was positive! I’m no longer a COVID virgin. I contacted Cindy who visited Dad with me last week Wednesday, and Kelly and Tami to let them know and test for COVID.
• Monday afternoon, Tami also had the start of a cold and was run down. She also tested for COVID and was positive!
• They admitted Dad to Ascension All Saints Hospital again on Tuesday. We encouraged Kelly to have Dad tested for COVID since we postulated that we contracted COVID in the hospital while visiting Dad. His coughing was most likely related to the virus, and because he’s hard of hearing, we sat close to him. So much for social distancing!
• Both Cindy and Kelly tested negative, Dad tested positive. Yikes!
• This had a ripple effect on our holiday plans. Dad remained in the hospitalas they determined next steps. As Tami described the situation earlier, “Dad’s a puzzle!” 
• Kelly and husband Bill spent Thanksgiving with Dad in the hospital. Tami at home, isolating. Her kids, Quinn and Gemma, are remaining at their respective colleges, Tami’s husband Ron, who remained negative, celebrated with his siblings and mother and brought home a plate for Tami. I’m made simple dinner at home, a honey-glazed spiral ham with cheesy hash browns, and yes, I made a blueberry pie. Miraculously, my sense of taste and smell returned just in time.
• As a family, all the siblings wanted Dad to return home, receive the help he needed, which might include round-the-clock home care, and thrive in his home for as long as he has left to live. We agreed on that decision from the very beginning, but had some confusion on how best to accomplish that goal. Since Tami, brother Rick, and I are not there in Racine, we relied on the status reports and progress reports that Kelly shared with us.
• Dad remained in the hospital another week since he had an infection related to the fluid in his chest wall. He had an endoscopy to help determine his difficulty swallowing and ability to eat solid foods. The good news was he didn’t have an ulcer, or obstruction, only minor reflux.
• His throat was constricted however, and they stretched it to enable him to swallow and eat solid foods. They also did a biopsy during the endo and Dad had another chest tube installed so fluids could continue to be drained and when he’s discharged home, and home health care nurses would help drain fluid when needed.
• Dad received speech therapy, which I assume helped him breathe and swallow so he’d be able to eat solid food. He was on blood thinners in addition to the antibiotics for his infection.
• The second hospital stay was frustrating for all of us as we tried to understand next steps for Dad. We all were talking with Heartland, the palliative/hospice care provider in Racine who would provide care for Dad when he’s discharged home. Since Tami and I are here in Madison, we’ve only had limited conversations with Dad’s doctors and Heartland. Kelly and Rick have been promoting hospice as the next step from the very beginning, while Tami and I, as we understood palliative care, were suggesting that option. In the end after a frustrating week, and continued messaging of questions and answers for clarification, we came to understand and agree that Dad would receive a higher level of care with hospice, including RX, home nursing, etc. We didn’t believe that Dad is near death, however he’s unable to live independently, the goal of palliative care.
• Though Dad has not been diagnosed with cancer or something else, his diagnosis of pleural effusion qualified him for hospice when he was discharged.
• Dad returned home and was happy to be there! First a shout out to Tag Team Sisters Kelly and Tami for making it happen with the help of a rotating team of doctors and nurses, Dad’s social worker, Tammy, hospital transition advocate, Emilee, his hospice nurse, Steven, the delivery team who brought his hospital bed, commode, etc. (they were a day late) and the ambulance team who delivered him safely home.
• Tami took the lead managing the logistics of Dad’s return home and stayed with Dad the first night. Kelly and Tami made sure there were lots of pillows, comfy clothes and new pajamas, soft foods, hand mixer to puree food, a humidifier, and miscellaneous items to make his stay at home as comfortable as possible. See Dad’s photo in his hospital bed in the living room so he can watch TV and hold court with visitors.
• Kelly and Tami designed a schedule so Dad has around-the-clock assistance. Our brother Rick was returning to Wisconsin until he returns to Colorado for Christmas. Cindy Archer and I planned a visit to Racine to spend the day with Dad.
• Dad was sent home with a drain for the fluid in his lung. Still no definitive diagnosis for the cause of his hospitalization and fluid in his lungs. He was hospitalized for over a month yet maintained his positive spirit, and desire to return to his home and routines. The medical staff, his social worker, and hospice team all commented that he was a great patient, friendly, and socially engaging.
• Dad will have hospice care assistance draining fluids and provided with any medications that he needs. He had a strong will to live and was stubborn too! The main objective was to keep him out of the hospital if possible. Even if Dad is diagnosed with cancer, he has decided that he does not want to have any chemo or surgeries. He wears a DNR bracelet and wants to spend the rest of his life at home with his bio and chosen family.

Home & Second Goodbye

On Sunday, 12/10, with my ex-partner and chosen family member, Cindy, we drove to Racine to visit Dad at home. I brought a Quiche Lorraine for my sisters to enjoy for breakfast as they cared for Dad, and stopped to buy lunch for all of us at Culver’s so I could deliver Dad Cream of Tomato Florentine soup, and his favorite strawberry shake, and yes, more strawberry for dessert, strawberry custard.

I was grateful to see Dad at home, comfortable in his hospital bed in the living room so he could hold court with visitors. It was good to see Kelly too. She fed Dad before she had her own lunch. She coaxed him to have more. We all wanted him to eat. He was still only able to eat soft foods and liquids, including Ensure. We wanted him to get enough nutrition. He would tell Kelly when he had enough. I later learned from Tami, that he told her, “I’ll do whatever you girls want me to do. I’ll eat if it makes you happy.”

We had a wonderful afternoon. Dad was in good spirits, glad to have more company and some of his favorite foods. We shared stories. I brought Christmas gifts for Kelly and Bill, and a gift for Cindy and her wife, Natalie. I asked Dad what he wanted for Christmas, and Kelly suggested, maybe you can find him a Green Bay Packer, or UW Badger Football hospital gown. I made a mental note, Dad being the fan that he is, I would do my best find them.

Kelly needed to take a quick run home to check her work appointments for the following week. No sooner than she left, Dad said he was uncomfortable, and asked if Cindy and I could help him. He had slid down a little in his bed. We didn’t know the most efficient way to slide him up using the sheets and didn’t ease his discomfort, in fact we may have made it worse. He remarked, which caught us totally off guard, “I’m laying on my balls, and it hurts, can you help me?” Cindy and I looked at each other, like now what?

I understand that caregiving, especially at the end of life becomes very personal and hands on. Washing loved ones, changing diapers, cleaning up accidents. Never did I imagine I would be asked to grab my father by the balls and adjust them so he could be more comfortable. I paused a minute, drew down the blanket, lifted-up his gown, and cupped my hand under his diaper and testicles, and adjusted them so he wouldn’t be leaning on one of them. He grimaced, complained a little that it hurt, then sighed and responded, “Oh, that feels better. Thank you!”

Dad started to get tired and so was Kelly. It turned out that after Cindy I left to return home, they both napped well into the evening. It was a bittersweet second goodbye.

Dad, Richard (“Dick”) Frank Lenzke, Sr, died on 12/19, comfortably in his home just after 6:30pm with Tami at his side. Earlier, Tami, Kelly, and I (mine by the phone held up to his ear) were able to say our goodbyes and let him know it was time to join Mom. I promised him we’d take care of each other.

Elegy for My Father

Fog has settled in and made a home here,
leading up to Christmas the year of your death.
The fog is thick like pea soup.
I made some for you, but you died
before I could deliver it to your hospital bed
at the home you and Mom raised
six children and celebrated holidays,
birthdays, and hosted family visits.

You always enjoyed telling the story
of my January birth on Friday the 13th.
The weather was exactly as it is today,
unseasonably warm, a London Fog
kind of day. I’m your firstborn,
you almost 20-years-old, Mom almost 18.
We grew up together, I helped raise my siblings,
you told me it was my first job as the eldest.

You were my mentor and first teacher,
You, who were abandoned by your father,
raised us as you wish you had been.
You played with us, wrestling on the floor,
told stories of your youth, and impressed upon us,
the importance of friends and an education.
You taught me to tie my shoes
and write my name. Your signature had flare.

We loved to read the Sunday papers together,
at 16, I asserted my young adulthood.
We would debate over the news and culture of the day;
we were both right-fighters, stubborn, and willful.
It’s ironic, you taught me, first and foremost,
to think for myself, not follow the crowd,
be independent and strong. In later years, we’d argue over
our recollections of our shared memories.

You loved us unconditionally to the best of your ability,
welcomed our friends and remembered
most of the people you ever met. People remembered
your blue eyes, smile, and the stories you told.
I’m grateful, like you, I became a storyteller. Thank you.
We inherited more than the stories of our past,
we were perfectly flawed, carrying wounds
and predispositions hard-wired in our DNA.

You outlived your lover, soulmate,
best friend and mother of your children,
your grandparents, parents, and siblings.
Now, we carry on in your memory. Your legacy
is the family you created, the generations that will follow,
the traditions shared during holidays, the stories we tell.
This first Christmas without you, your love, blue eyes,
and broad smile remain in our hearts and memory, a gift.

Christmas Eve, 2023

Funeral, Graveside, & Last Goodbye

Funeral Planning

The funeral planning began years earlier when Mom died in January 2016, with help from Rick and Kelly, who were Mom and Dad’s Medical and Legal Power of Attorneys. After they planned Mom’s funeral with the Draeger-Langendorf Funeral Home, they also chose the headstone, and fulfilled Dad’s request for a UW Badger Football Red Casket. Rick and Kelly with the funeral home scheduled the funeral visitation and service for Thursday, 1/4, and the internment the next day.

Rick and Kelly, planned the post-funeral gathering at Buckets 2^nd Round Pub where we had gathered after Mom’s funeral with friends and family, and where Rick reserved the private event room for his daughter Jennifer and spouse Becky’s wedding reception. Kelly made reservations at Wells Brothers Italian Restaurant, famous for their cracker-thin crust, square-cut pizza, and antipasto salad for the post internment luncheon.

We celebrated birthdays, anniversaries, and Mom’s post-internment luncheon. Plus, it’s the family’s go-to pizza restaurant for dining in and carrying out when visiting in Racine. Kelly is featured in the Wells Brothers website video. She’s entering the restaurant and later enjoying a drinks at the bar with her workmates.

The siblings, and Casey, Kelly’s daughter, who lived with Mom and Dad when she was young, collaborated on the funeral service planning. With help from Draeger-Langendorf, whose director was a friend of the family, we created a poignant send off for our father. It was also, sadly, a frustrating process for the family. We did not always agree on the details and the ensuing conflict reflected the intensity of our individual and shared grief.

We each contributed. Kelly and Casey planned the flowers. Casey collected family photos and made a memorial video. Kelly selected framed photos from Dad’s home. Kelly, Tami, and Casey made photo boards. I drafted the obituary with input from my sisters. There was conflict regarding a couple of details at the 11^th hour before the deadline. After the funeral, I made amends to my sister Kelly for hurtful words. I was reminded that we each grieve differently and our grief can be expressed in tears, angry words, and more.

Tami designed the Memorial Card to compliment Mom’s. The front featured Dad’s hand-colored engagement photo; inside a favorite photo of our parents, Dad with Bucky Badger, a poem by Mary Elizabet Frye, Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep, and the back featured an Irish Blessing and Dad waving goodbye from the front porch of our childhood home, a tradition of his when family left after a visit.

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

I chose music with input from my sisters, a combination of the rhythm and blues of the 1950s and 1960s, plus country western music, including Johnny Cash, Statler Brothers, and Willy Nelson.

Dad wanted a UW Badger-themed funeral and we delivered!

Visitation & Service

First, gratefully, I rode with Tami, her husband Ron and family to Racine. We planned on staying at Dad’s which was more challenging than I had anticipated. I initially thought it might be comforting, however without Dad’s presence and the disarray of the house after moving out his hospital bed and Rick dismantling grab bars, etc. it was in fact a reminder of loss and things change, which has become the theme of 2024.

We ate lunch from Jerry’s Subs, the family’s favorite sandwich shop, (Kewpee’s for burgers!), which for me, began two days of IBS symptoms, most likely triggered by emotions and stress.  We picnicked on the living room floor like we were breaking Dad’s rules. Shortly afterwards, Rick and Nancy, and John and Nikki arrived. Blatz beer was imbibed by some family members, and the storytelling and reminiscing began.

Later, we dressed for the visitation and funeral service. The family arrived at the same time, Casey and her three eldest kids, John and Nikki, Rick and Nancy, and Kelly and Bill. When we walked into the viewing room, Tami immediately had an emotional response. We setup the photo boards, photographs, arranged flowers, etc. Dad’s casket was amazing, a lacquered metallic red casket, a hat tip to Dad’s passion for UW Badger football.

Dad was dressed in blue jeans, a Badger shirt, and cap. There was his photo on the inside of the casket. During the visitation and service family members placed items in the casket. I added my tribute, there was Blatz Beer in a cozy, John added an Irish Las Vegas Police Badge, and someone, I assume Kelly, placed a Chic-fil-A gift certificate.

The flowers too mirrored the UW Badger red theme, beautiful red roses, and white lilies. Cindy Archer and my employer, OutReach, sent flowers. Cindy’s was particularly breathtaking. The family wore red, mostly black with red accessories. I wore black dress pants, a black jacket, and a red tunic shirt.

The receiving line was a bit chaotic, all the siblings didn’t stand in line to greet attendees.  I was grateful that my chosen family members arrived, Leanne and Rene, and Tracy, and Cindy. Tami’s friends and Pat, Quinn and Gemma’s father arrived, as well as many of the people from the Racine Unified School District that worked with Dad and Rick, and lastly, Kelly’s hairstylist colleagues. Lastly, Jennifer and Becky joined the family. Casey and her three eldest children, young adults, M’Kye, Jace, and Nala all flew in from Italy to attend the funeral. I was grateful to have some time connecting with Casey and her kids.

Both Casey and I read tributes to Dad. We made it through our words with minimal tears. Afterwards, one of the funeral staff sought me out to thank me, and shared that he was the father of a lesbian daughter and appreciated my tribute.

Richard Frank Lenzke, Sr. Obituary

Memorial Video

Tribute to My Father

Today we gather as bio and chosen family, friends, coworkers, neighbors and more, to honor Richard Frank Lenzke, Sr. He was known by many names, from Richard, to Dick, and his favorites, Hubby, Dad, Grandpa, Great Grandpa, and the name students gave him at Mitchell School, Dick the Janitor. When he cared for our mother, the decade before she died, he was most proud of the nickname she gave him, Nurse Dad.

Dad was the person I knew the longest in life. On the eve of my January 74^th birthday, I’m Dick and Ethel’s firstborn. I watched him mature from the 19-year-old who married our mother, his soulmate, who together, made and raised a family of six children. Dad watched me mature too. He was my first teacher and mentor. Mom was the nurturer and caregiver. We grew up together.

As the firstborn, Dad imparted lots of responsibilities on my shoulders. After his father abandoned the family, he was raised by women, his mother, Violet, grandmother, Helen, and eldest sister, Betty. He respected these women and expected me to help raise my younger siblings, to look out for them.

Dad was my first teacher. He taught me how to tie my shoes so I could be ready for kindergarten. He also taught me how to print my name. If my memory serves me, it was our first argument. I wanted to add a flourish to the ‘L’ in Linda. It resulted in a letterform that resembled an ‘h.’  The irony for those familiar with Dad’s signature, the ‘L’ in his name was very decorative including hearts. I wanted mine to look like his.

Our family attended St. Patrick’s Catholic Church across town. They bought their first and only house on the southwest side of Racine, and I would begin first grade. Dad sat me down and posed a choice for me. I could ride a bus across town and attend St. Patrick’s Parochial School, or walk the ten-plus blocks to public elementary school. It was an easy decision for me, I chose public school. All my siblings benefited from that choice.

Our parents spaced the births of their children, virtually raising three pairs. The firstborn of each pair was an unplanned, ‘oops’ baby. The second was a planned playmate.  First, there was Roz and I, followed by Cindy and Rick, and finally, Kelly and Tami. The benefit of this strategy is that each pair helped babysit the younger pair, since both Mom and Dad were working parents. Kelly and Tami however, in the eyes of their elder siblings, received a pass and were more spoiled. An example: Dad taught me to make my bed as I got out of it (just like he did). Dad often made Tami’s bed!

Dad taught his kids that school was important and to achieve all that we could, to participate in school activities, and make friends, but choose well. He liked to tell the story, that though he did not excel at all sports, he played football, wrestled, and ran hurdles in track. He earned his letter in sports, though he also earned a reputation in football. A quote in his Horlick High School yearbook read, “Give me a clear path, and I’ll fall over nothing!”

He encouraged us to be independent thinkers and to not blindly follow the crowd. He was strict with his older children and as the eldest, I pushed back at the age of 16 when I tried to assert my young adult independence. I became the academically successful and opiniated daughter that he raised. I was active in high school, joined lots of clubs, acted in plays, and as a junior became the editor of our high school newspaper. 

We loved reading the Sunday newspapers together. It was the height of the civil rights and antiwar movement in Viet Nam. We’d argue over the news and politics of the day. We also discussed, and often disagreed about culture, especially music. During one argument, I asserted that the Beatles would be bigger than Elvis Presley. We were both dug-in to our positions.   

After high school, I began college, dropped out more than once, became active in the social justice movements of the time, and for a brief period in the late sixties lived a communal, hippie lifestyle. Dad was disappointed in me. The one redeeming factor was Frank, the man I would soon marry. We decided to find jobs and make a home together. Soon the four of us would go out for dinner and drinks.

Both Dad and I are storytellers. One of our favorite stories was a night at a supper club, “Wigs ‘n Ellie’s.” Frank was a big eater, and Dad, when he was working, had a healthy appetite. When the waiter described the night’s specials, sweetheart special steak filets for two, and either a 6 or 12-rack of ribs, he began with Frank’s order. Frank ordered the sweetheart special for two and Dad asked, “You can do that?”  Frank said, “Hell, yeah!” Dad said “I’ll have that too!” Both Mom and I liked BBQ Ribs so when the waiter asked me for my order, Mom waited to hear what I’d say. I said, I’ll have the 12-rack. Mom looked at me with smiling eyes and said, I will too!

The restaurant was known for their garden salad that was delivered to the table in a galvanized pail with tongs and served in monkey pod bowls along with small loaves of fresh-baked bread. We asked for more bread before the entrees arrived at the table, looking like a scene out of the Flintstones. The chef came out to meet the table of four that ordered food for eight. Yes, doggie bags were involved.

During the years Frank and I were married, we moved to Madison, which began the tradition of UW Badger Football Saturdays when the family would stay the weekend. Parents and younger siblings spent the July 4^th week vacationing in Madison for several years.

One of the most difficult memories, was informing my family that Frank and I were divorcing. Complicating it, was my revelation that I was coming out as a lesbian. Gratefully, though not their wish for me, my parents accepted and loved me unconditionally. They also welcomed all my partners, their children, and my friends as members of their family. Some of you are here today. I’m lucky.

There were challenging years too, periods of estrangement, and gratefully, reconciliation. Dad, like all of us, was a flawed human being, yet at heart, a man who strove to be the father he never had. He faithfully loved his wife, our mother, and after she died, he talked to her every day. He was hardworking, never forgot a person he met, had the bluest of eyes, and a trademark smile. He will be missed, yet live on in our shared memories, the stories we tell, and the generations that follow.  Thanks, Dad!

Post-Funeral Gathering

After packing up, we joined friends at Buckets 2^nd Round Pub. We had reserved a small private event space.  Blatz beer and appetizers were served. There were three chicken wing options with sauces, pizza, sandwich rolls, charcutier, and a Danish Layer Cake. I sat with chosen family, Leanne, Rene, and Tracy until they returned home. I then joined Ron’s family table with his sister and mother, Quinn and Gemma, and Pat. We had a trademark chat. Pat and his spouse have returned to Madison and Pat talked about looking for a job, ideally, working from home.

My nephew John, my sister Roz’s son, sought me out in a very positive, affectionate, and respectful manner, treating me as the family elder and connecting with me about his mother. He told me more about his new job and how much he enjoyed being a grandfather with a second on the way. I was grateful. I was anxious to return to Dad’s and leave Buckets, another drinking occasion that I simply wanted to remove myself from.

When we did finally return to Dad’s we all expressed our desire to get in our PJs, claim our real estate for sleeping, and watch as Tami describes it, as ‘Murder Porn’ and wind down. Soon, we discovered that Rick had turned off Dad’s AT&T cable service and phone, including ripping the phone out of the wall. Instead, we debriefed about the day and claimed our sleeping locations. Ron went to bed in Dad’s room. I chose the couch, Tami the floor where Dad’s hospital bed had been, Gemma, Mom’s recliner and Quinn would sleep in Mom’s bedroom. We talked until midnight.

I didn’t sleep well. Leg cramps and the inability to get comfortable. I was wired from the day and woke a couple of times through the night to use the bathroom.

Internment & Post Burial Luncheon

Friday morning, I woke early like I usually do about 5:30 a.m. In the living room, Tami and Gemma were sound asleep, Quinn in Mom’s bedroom, and Ron in Dad’s still sleeping too. I made coffee charged my phone and didn’t know how to entertain myself. I felt disoriented.

Soon, after some coffee, I went through Mom’s recipes and chose some to take home. I also grabbed Mom’s aluminum measuring cups and spoons. After my phone charged, I checked messages, emails, and Facebook.

Ron woke up and we talked for awhile before he made a run to Starbuck’s and Dunkin Donuts, also returning with juice for the family. I like Ron a lot. We both are eldest children and for that reason are over-responsible. As everyone else continued to sleep-in we began preparing for packing up for the return trip home. I decided to not take the Serenity Prayer home, since the car would be fully loaded.

When it was early afternoon, Ron roused his family, though after a few minutes Tami went back to bed. It took a while for everyone to get started for the day. Tami had a hangover. Ron and I continued to busy ourselves with cleaning out the refrigerator, picking up the house, and packing up the car.

I finally grabbed my suitcase to get dressed while Quinn was still asleep in Mom’s bed. Gemma got up from the recliner, and spooned with her mother, reminding me when I spooned with Mom. The car was mostly packed up. I was dressed, Quinn cleaned up and got dressed, Gemma and Tami finally got up from bed, and 20 minutes before we planned on leaving, Tami got ready so we could leave for the burial.

We arrived at the cemetery where Dad and I had visited several times so he could visit Mom. We got in the queue of family cars and when given the signal drove to the burial site. We got out of our cars, greeted each other, exchanged hugs, and watched the family pall bearers remove Dad’s casket from the hearse and placed it on the stand which would lower it in the ground.

The red lacquered casket, shone brightly in the sun on the cold morning. There were three chairs for surviving siblings (not four?). I sat in one of them. The staff from the funeral home, read a couple of prayers and burial tributes. Dad’s casket was lowered into the grave and blessed with holy water.

We left right away for Wells Brothers and didn’t linger. When we arrived at the restaurant there were two tables reserved for us. Tami’s family and I, plus Rick, Nancy, Jennifer, and Becky sat at one table, and Kelly, Bill, Casey, and her family, at the other.

It was comforting to share a meal as a family at a place we had celebrated or gathered in the past for birthdays, anniversaries, and Mom’ funeral. The food is always good, the antipasto salad and of course, their famous cracker-thin crust, square cut pizza. We devoured several of them in no time. Rick ordered a couple of pizzas to take back to Dad’s for the Blatz Party I had been hearing about for days.

We said our goodbyes, and exchanged hugs and kisses. Tami, her family, and I were heading back to Madison. After we left on the way to the cars, I had an IBS incident, rushed back into the restaurant just in time. During the ride home, I was anxious that it could happen again.

On the way home, we stopped in Milwaukee to drop off Gemma and see her apartment and take a bathroom break. Tami drove, we talked, and gratefully, I didn’t have any additional IBS incidents.

I was grateful to be home with a couple of days left to recuperate before I needed to return to work.

What’s Next?

After the visitation, funeral service, burial, and family luncheon, some family members attended the final event, The Blatz Party, a visit and farewell to our childhood home, where many memories were made, holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries were celebrated.  It was an opportunity to finish the last of Dad’s Blatz Beer from his beer closet, which were hoisted by family and toasted him in his honor at his 1960s Knotty Pine Basement Bar.  Afterwards, everyone traveled to their own homes in Wisconsin, Colorado, Nevada, and Italy.

We’ve all been grieving since Dad’s passing. It’s the death of our last parent, the sale of our childhood home, which was the destination for our family gatherings, and for most us, the reason to return to Racine, Wisconsin, where we were born, grew up, raised families, celebrated with each other, and bid farewell to loved ones. I was reminded that we all grieve differently. Some of us lean into our grief, others, may at least temporarily, take a break from the intense emotions associated with loss.

For my siblings, we’re planning one more last goodbye on 2/10. Rick is preparing the house for sale and we hope to all gather to learn more about the next steps in Dad’s estate and disposition of the Will, and to say goodbye to our childhood home in some kind of ritual, take one last photo of the four us remaining siblings (we previously said goodbye to Roz and Cindy), maybe on the front porch of the house we grew up in. It will in fact be, The Last Goodbye.

For me as the eldest sibling, I need to take a fresh look at what my role will be in the future. In my final phone call with Dad the day he died, I promised that we would take care of each other. That remains both my wish and promise to keep. I hope we stay connected and present in each other’s lives and find ways to create and celebrate new traditions and family holidays. I understand it will take time, our feelings are tender, there’s grieving and healing ahead for each of us, which we may experience differently.  Speaking for myself, I have work to do.

I’ve returned to therapy, a tool and relationship that has served me in the past and literally saved my life. In addition to the grief around our father’s death, the sale of our childhood home, redefining my role with my siblings, I’m also grieving the loss of my youth and mobility due to related health conditions as I age, including my hip-replacement, fractured humerus, and the underlying bone-on-bone osteoarthritis in both shoulders.

I’ve written before — as a person of a certain age — 74 this past month — my life is no longer a dress rehearsal. I have very little time remaining to figure what I want to do when I grow up! My wish and work is to create the richest, most vibrant, and engaging quality of life that I can achieve physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I also want to leave a meaningful legacy. On both my maternal and paternal sides of our immediate family, I’m the family elder.

Though it’s my responsibility to determine how I want to live my remaining years, to keep the promise I made our father on his death bed, I also choose to act as a role model, mentor, and mediator for the surviving generations, and hope, when asked, I can find ways to support family members I love with all my heart. 

Related Reading from Mixed Metaphors, Oh My!

A Grateful Daughter: A Father’s Day Tribute

Three Fathers

The Loud Family Loses a Loved One

Tag Team Sisters

Holding On & Letting Go

The Impermanence of Life

Meditations on Mortality

The Legacy of Material Things

Letter to Loved Ones (Just in Case)