The Rule of 3

The Rule of Three. There are several “rules” out there, and in this case I’m referring to events happening in groups of three. My Dad believed this, and I’ve followed right along in this belief. Patterns emerge in the most interesting places.

I also believe in the Core Four. You’ve heard me refer to My Core Four in several blog posts, and one astute human (yes, you, Caleb) asked why I used the number 4, since My Core Four referred to My Rock (Dennis), Victoria and Matthew. In case you’re counting, that makes 3. That was a great question, and I have a three-part answer.

One: It’s my nod to one of my favorite tv shows, “The Middle” and their use of “The Core Four” during a famous New Year’s Eve toast by the refrigerator. Trust me, it’s hilarious!

Two: There’s another member of My Core Four, me. Throughout my diagnosis and treatments, I came to realize how important it was to listen to my inner voice. It was quite a bizarre thing to be trapped in a body that was literally killing me. Being trapped and feeling the things I was feeling, well, the only way my doctor’s could help was by telling them. (This may seem like a no-brainer to you, but it was very difficult for me to do.)

Three: Everyone in a group is important. Everyone.

Greenville Theatre is a magical place, full of the best humans. It also happens to be my place of employment. To say that Covid-19 caused some difficult months, is quite the understatement. Our doors were closed for over a year and a half. During that time, I had the privilege of working alongside three of my favorite humans, Cory, Graham and Thomas. I fondly call them “the boys.” It was just the four of us working in the large theatre every day. Anything that came up, we dealt with together. Never was this more apparent than when Dad was diagnosed with cancer. Was it work related? No. Was it friend related? Yes. The boys frequently checked in on me, supported me, and made me feel less alone. The day before I left to help care for Dad throughout his hospice journey, they brought me beautiful flowers and the sweetest card. I cried. A lot. They allowed me the space to feel what I was feeling. That is a rare gift.

When I headed to Wisconsin, I took that card with me and read it every day. The card represented their friendship, and it continued to help me feel less alone during some pretty awful times. Their friendship meant the world to me. It still does. The boys make me laugh on a regular basis, and they still check in with me to see how I’m doing. My second Core Four was in the making long before I knew just how much they would mean to me. Some friendships sneak up on you like that, and I am proud to call Cory, Graham and Thomas my friends.

During Dad’s illness there were so many family members who came to visit. Each visit was a joyous event, and each happened at the perfect time. Dad loved nothing more than to be surrounded by family. Once the visits were over, and in the final days of his life, it was just David (my Priest), Denise (you’ll meet her soon), Jessie (ditto) and me. Dad declined so quickly it was shocking. We never had time to breathe and establish a routine because things changed almost hourly. Days and nights blurred together. Our hearts were breaking but there was no time to acknowledge that… we had work to do, care to give, meetings with the hospice team to have, and micro-naps to take. Frankly, this was the most difficult thing I have ever done, and it would have been impossible without this group of people.

We lived this journey together. Every heart-wrenching, laughter-educing, memory-making moment, together. Dad never lost his ability to communicate, even though it was more subtle. He was most at peace when we were all in the room together, laughing, reminiscing, and badgering each other. We stayed with Dad until the hospice nurse arrived to confirm that he had passed, and that was an hour after his last breath. We stayed with Dad until he left with the funeral director. It was at this point that we split up for awhile… Dave went running (a pastime that Dad had started with him years ago), Denise and Jessie took care of some family who were visiting, and I left the house to get sick.

We came back together and soldiered on… we had work to do, care to give (picking out clothes for Dad, writing the eulogy, and continuing to carry out his wishes), meetings with the funeral director to have, and micro-naps to take. It never ended, until it did, and our hearts continued to break.

We are now a bonded group. We lived so much together in those few weeks. My third Core Four was a lifetime in the making. They are not only family, I am proud to call Dave, Denise and Jessie my friends.

There it is again… The Rule of Three. I have three Core Fours. It’s almost like Dad reached out and provided exactly what I needed when I needed it most. Thank you, Daddy! Grief is a small price to pay for the extraordinary privilege of love. ❤