My Dad

My dad, Felix A. Rosario, passed away on 2 September 2013 after complications of his heart. He had been in ICU for just about two weeks after having open heart and by-pass surgery. One valve, normally the size of a 1/2 dollar was the size of a pin hole, so had difficulty breathing; and blockage of the LAD.

Surgery had gone well, or so it seemed. Doctors told us it was a day to day situation. When I saw him last week, he seemed fine and had been doing his breathing exercises. He couldn't talk because of the breathing tube and feeding tube down his throat but he understood my questions and comments and I even read him some get well cards.

On Sunday (September 1^st), Tony and went to visit dad and he had taken a turn for the worse. About seven people were in the room trying to figure out what was going wrong. They eventually stabilized him and once we knew he was okay we left.

Later that evening my brother Charlie called to say he had gotten worse so I asked him to check with the doctor to see if I should be there, as I wanted to say goodbye to dad.  Yes.

A couple came to visit Dad (his neighbors) for a while and we all sat with the doctor as he explained that nothing further could be done. Dad had taken too many steps backwards.  He heart was in bad shape and would not withstand any further procedures. He had been placed back on “critical care” and his heart was not beating properly, along with his blood pressure very high.

I asked for a Chaplain to give dad his last rites with us at his bedside. His friends said their goodbyes and left Charlie and me alone with dad. We quietly played opera music in hopes of giving him a little something that he loved as he drifted from this world, which he did: Pain-free, peacefully, and with Charlie and me at his bedside.

Charlie and I made all the arrangements for dad’s funeral, which went well yesterday (9 September 2013). About 50 people attended, including my friends Christine and Paul from Toms River NJ and Carolyn and Mark from Columbia MD. Their attendance meant the world to me.

After Deacon Moore read my letter to dad (below), several of dad’s friends spent a few minutes telling stories.

Following the internment at Hillcrest Memorial Gardens in Annapolis, we had the repast at dad’s house with way too much food. Not everyone from the funeral services attended, but we had a nice number of people who sat around reminiscing about dad.

Dad and I had a lot in common and we shared many wonderful times together.

Dad had a full and wonderful life, from struggles to many accomplishments. His government career spanned 45 years. I followed suit, almost 30 years now, thanks to his assistance in getting my foot in the door.

Having lived around the world, Dad, Mom, Charlie and I experienced different cultures, food, art, music, and local traditions.  My passion for traveling grew from this, which dad always enjoyed reading my journals and saw the world with me through my photography. 

Dad and I enjoyed our lunch dates and it was always fun to watch him charm and flirt with the waitresses who smiled in return.

He gave advice and support when I needed it, and times when I didn’t. He appreciated my accomplishments and was also proud of Tony and me of our accomplishments together.

I was so always amused by his emails, as they were colorful, dramatic, or funny, that I told him he should write a book of his life. He loved the movies and could have been a movie critic.

I’ll miss our conversations, his stories, his cooking, even the self-portraits he took sitting at his computer before going to a concert.

Thanksgiving was always special with Dad, Charlie, and Tony’s family, Millie, Aldo, Ken, and others; or at his house for Christmas. I will miss Dad the most at Thanksgiving. He would sit next to me indulging on a huge turkey leg and all the foods that Tony and I prepared, while sharing a bottle of wine that he brought for just the two of us.

I love you Dad.

Monica

http://www.kalasfuneralhomes.com/sitemaker/sites/George2/obit.cgi?user=1079223Rosario

PS: Dad was dressed in his tux, just as he would when he went to the opera.