My Dad's life

My father, Dick Cadd, died on October 3rd, around 10 A.M. in Newberg, Oregon. My family wasn’t able to reach me until 11:30 P.M. (my time) in Saudi Arabia that day. The only phone number they had for me was the school office, which had been closed for hours. They finally saw me go on-line and called on Skype. My oldest sister Carolyn didn’t make any attempt to soften the blow. She just said, “LuAnne, dad died.” It was a rough night. I was trying to finish up making a big test for 80 students. I felt like I had to finish it and had to go in the next day to copy and give it. I got to bed around 2:30 A.M. and it really hit me at that point that dad was gone, that I’d never see him again. It was hours of painful, agonizing, sobbing. I was on the edge most of the next day. Asked people not to show too much sympathy or I’d lose it. Maybe I should have gone home to sit in my big empty house alone to cry, but that didn’t sound like a much better option.

The faculty and my students were wonderful and supportive. I love them. The school organized my trip home with lightening speed. I decided to leave on Thursday – two days later. The school allows for 10 days of bereavement leave. I had to plan for 2 weeks of lessons and had a hundred papers to grade. In the end, I barely got the lesson plans finished, and none of the grading.

It was hard being on the other side of the world, but I thought it would be worse when I came home and dad wouldn’t be there. Instead I felt very disconnected when I arrived back in Newberg. It felt like a family reunion and dad would come around the corner at any minute. We previewed a video that Josh & Damon made about dad for the memorial service, and my sisters & mom cried through most of it. I didn’t. I felt mad at myself and guilty that I couldn’t cry. I still don’t know what’s going on with me. I have moments of emotion, but nothing huge like I felt in Saudi. I don’t really understand the grief process and don’t understand what I’m going through.

The family decided that mom shouldn’t be alone, even at night, so the house was full of people day and night up to the day of the memorial service. The church organized food for us each night which was so helpful.

Three hundred people came to honor dad at the memorial service on Sunday. Hundreds more emailed and called to say how much they wanted to come. The news of his death circled the globe at lightening speed. Dad was so loved and had an impact on so many lives. The unusual thing about the service was that our performing, gregarious, talented Cadd family couldn’t bring ourselves to get up in front and say a word or sing a note. Carolyn decided at the last minute to try, and she made it through her letter to dad. Steve and Jon couldn’t make it back from the Philippines and Zimbabwe for the service but sent letters to be read. We asked someone else to read our tributes; Scott Ankeny read Jon’s; Paul Eyestone, a childhood friend from Faith Academy, read Steve’s; Marcia Hadley read Yvonne’s; and my cousin, Debbie Allan, read mine. (You can read the letters at this web site: http://imageevent.com/luannecadd/mydad/letterfromhiskids ). Instead of singing live, we showed some video of the family singing. Dad, the choir director, led the singing at his own memorial service via a video. It was wonderful. The service was long…over one and a half hours. But we’ve been told by several people that it was the best they have ever been to.

I'm heading back to Saudi in a week. I feel in a state of limbo, between homes, not feeling fully attached to either. Missing my wonderful father.

http://imageevent.com/luannecadd/mydad/letterfromhiskids - Link to Letters from Dick Cadd's kids, read at his memorial service