The first year after someone dies the hardest things are dealing with the “firsts”, days and events where your loved one is absent. It’s been nearly eleven months since David left us and we have been through our first birthdays without him and the holidays. Through each of those I made it fine, I was strong and seemed to find the joy and humor in the day. But, today is my first Father’s Day without David. I hope the day that has started out with many years will be part of the healing. So, I’d like to recall my first “father’s day” and my last Father’s Day with David.
It was March of 1984 and I had just returned from my first overseas deployment. Nancy had stayed with my mom and after picking her up we drove cross-country to Camp Pendleton. Marriage was still new and we were filled with the hope and dreams of any new couple. We settled into an apartment in San Clemente that was so tiny you could stand in one spot and be in all three rooms at once.
In true Lozano style Nancy became pregnant immediately. I can remember the sheer joy we felt and anxiety of parenthood and what we wanted for our new child. That spring and summer we watched Nancy’s stomach grow and we took birthing classes. Of all the things I remember though, it was the joy of the first time I felt David move. It was just a flutter but I was mesmerized with it. As the flutters became kicks we used to joke that the baby was doing summersaults. Then summer became fall and winter and Nancy grew larger and uncomfortable. We’d walk to the beach and on the way back I’d have to stand behind her and push her uphill. It was such a time of joy.
As far as names there was no question, if it was a boy it would be David Daniel, in honor of my brother David who died when I was an infant. If we had a girl’s name I’ve forgotten but I remember being confident it would be a boy though I don’t know why.
Pearl Harbor Day was a Friday. I came home from work beat, a 25 mile hike under my belt and coming down with the flu. But rather than rest Saturday night was the wedding of a friend where I drank a little too much (oops!). We got home around midnight and miserable I fell asleep on a rather uncomfortable wicker couch. At around 1:30 Nancy woke me up rather excitedly. Through the haze I remember her saying “I think my water broke!” Instantly, I was awake. I sat up and there stood Nancy by the bathroom, water pouring between her legs. “We’re having a baby tonight” she said with a smile. My first reaction was to pile her into the car and get her to the hospital but Nancy would have none of that. “I need to take a shower first” she said. As she was getting ready she said “it doesn’t even hurt”. A few minutes later from inside the bathroom I heard her first groan “ooooooow”. We laughed nervously as I urged her to hurry up because we had a 45 minute drive to the base hospital.
Finally dressed, she grabbed her bag she had packed in advance and we walked her to the car I had driven up the hill of the empty lot next to our apartment so she wouldn’t have to walk. On the way we stopped and got batteries for our camera and then began the long drive.
Camp Pendleton is a world unto itself. We exited the interstate at a lightly used gate called “Las Pulgas”. The Marine sentry looked at my ID card and asked me what we were doing and I told him Nancy was going to have a baby. He waved us on and said “don’t drive too fast”. I said “sure thing” then proceeded to drive just shy of reckless as I wove my way through the canyons and valleys of Pendleton.
We arrived at the hospital and the nurses began their work. After awhile I was brought in to see Nancy. This wasn’t some nice birthing room, it was just a regular hospital room. She was mostly dilated and well on her way but she wasn’t quite ready so they put her in the room. I sat in a chair next to her bed and we talked quietly. Then with no sleep, fighting the flu and remnants of alcohol in my system I fell asleep with my head by her side. I was rather abruptly woken up with a no longer happy wife hissing “I’m about to have a baby and you want to sleep?!!” Needless to say I didn’t go back to sleep.
When it was time they wheeled her in to a regular surgery room. The Navy doctor worked quickly and efficiently. I watched with complete awe as the baby’s head emerged. The baby had hair and it glistened with the amniotic fluid. I held my breath waiting to see movement. One shoulder, then the next and quickly the baby emerged. I looked anxiously to see the baby move and learn the sex. A boy! A boy! I had a boy!
The doctor and nurses quickly cleaned out David’s nose and mouth and clipped the umbilical cord. They placed him in Nancy’s arms and she gently kissed him. David's first cries were so gentle they made me smile. Then the doctor said they were a little concerned about his color so they wanted to put him on a warming table. I stood and looked at David laying in the warmer thinking it was a little like how they put food under warmers at a restaurant. Quickly the bluish tint turned to pink and they wrapped him up in blankets and put a knit cap on his head. A nurse said “would you like to hold your son?” and she handed me the greatest gift I have ever known, a child.
I placed him gently in my arms with his head in the crook of my arm I put my face down and kissed him on the nose. I smelled for the first of seven times the most awesome of smells; the smell of a newborn baby. Then I said quietly “welcome to our world David, I wish you a great life full of joy and happiness”.
Soon after Nancy and David were whisked away. Unable to stay awake I went back to the apartment to get some sleep but the adrenalin didn’t allow me and I watched the football Cardinals lose their second and last playoff game in their history in St. Louis. Nancy still reminds me of the fact I watched football instead of staying at the hospital with her 25 years later.
New parenthood was soon met with a new life as I left active duty just three weeks later. Nancy and David flew to St. Louis where we moved in with my mom and I began a new life as a student. Every day was something new and in 1985 I enjoyed my first Father’s Day.
Last year was my last Father’s Day with David. As we always did we gathered around the dining room table as the kids brought gifts they or Nancy had purchased. But David seemed extra anxious. After the other presents were given Nancy said David had one last gift but we all had to go outside. I really had no clue what it was.
We piled outside and David lifted the garage door. There sitting on the ground was a huge box and I read the words “grill”. I was stunned. David knew how much I love grilling and how I was still using the same dilapidated grill I’d had for 15 years. He had overhead me tell Nancy how much I wanted a new grill and he had picked out a beauty, a massive wood fired grill with a smoke box. I looked at David and he was just beaming because he knew how much it meant to me. Nancy later told me he’d paid for the $300 grill with his own money and that it had been his idea.
By the next day he was bugging me “when are you putting the grill together?” Finally, after the third time he asked I got aggravated and said “right now” and I went outside and I put it together as he checked on my progress periodically. When I fired it up for the first time you could just see the joy in his face as he knew he’d brought me some happiness. He was always so generous and six weeks later he was gone. Yesterday, we used that grill to cook a fajita bbq for my nephew Charlie’s graduation party.
Today will be hard but I hope to find the same joys I’ve found in other hard days. A loss so deep can only come from having loved something so dearly. So on my 25th Father’s Day, I love you David, thanks for the grill and yes…we did fajitas.
