Through the Window
by Carol Anne Hartman
February 15, 2011
Tomorrow will make four weeks. FOUR weeks.
That’s pretty much a month. It feels like just yesterday and an eternity all at the same time.
We got the call around 9:15 in the morning on January 18th. My husband’s father had passed away in his sleep the night before. Although his doctors had recently discovered a heart condition that he has likely had his entire life, no one expected this.
NO. ONE.
So we sat in my in-laws’ living room in silence. My mother-in-law’s friends and boss all there in their nurse scrubs. My sister-in-law sitting in her usual spot on the hearth, even though there was no fire burning. My husband and brother-in-law pacing, hugging, crying; both not being able to grasp the situation. And her. My mother-in-law, widowed only hours, sitting in her spot on the loveseat.
There are just no words. Only emotions at that point.
Raw, rough around the edges, not knowing how to deal emotions.
The emotions that come along with losing someone close to you are an odd thing. You know that at some point in your life, it?s coming. You know how you are going to feel. But having never actually felt that way before, the feelings feel foreign and not at all yours. Like looking at your life, but through a broken window. You can see what?s going on, but nothing quite lines up.
When they carried my father-in-law?s body out of the house, no one wanted to see. We all looked away. But then something odd happened. We all had a need to see them put him into the hearse. I don’t know why, but we all moved silently to the double glass doors to watch. I stood on the edge, looking through the decorative part of the window and I remember thinking: this is what my reality looks like. I can see what’s going on, but it’s just not right.
This is a picture of that same window, the same spot I had stood in almost a week before, looking on. This is our lives now. Until we find our “new normal,” this is what life looks like. It’s there. We can see it. But nothing lines up. It’s just not clear.
Brad Dad, I love you. If I could have hand-picked my father-in-law, I could not have picked one better than you.
Brad Evan Hartman, age 59 of Lenoir, passed away at his home on January 18, 2011. Born July 15, 1951 in Waynesboro, VA, Brad was a son of Tessie Eleanor (Bloss) [Hartman] Orlando and the late Harry Clifton Hartman, Jr. Brad was a retired detective with the East Brunswick Police Department in New Jersey. Brad and his family moved to Caldwell County in 1989. He worked many years for the Bank of Granite. He was a member of the East Brunswick PBA and a past Rotary Club member. Brad was an accomplished golfer and an official PGA Golf Apprentice. Brad loved to read, cook and travel. He was a mentor, sports coach and teacher to many. His proudest achievement was the love of his sons, grandsons and family. He was a good friend and a man of his word. He dedicated his life to his family.
In addition to his father, he was preceded in death by three brothers, Gary Steven, Timothy Clayton Hartman and his twin, lost at birth. Surviving are his wife Kathryn Cecilia Hartman of the home; son Jeffery and wife Carol Anne of Conover, son Ryan Timothy and wife Sharon of Lenoir and son MASN Kyle Evan Hartman of the United States Navy; his grandsons Timothy Craig, Coble Alexander and Kellen Andrew Hartman of Conover; his mother and stepfather, Tessie Eleanor (Bloss) [Hartman] Orlando and Everett Stephen Orlando of Madeira Beach, Florida; brother Richard Alan Hartman and wife Jennifer of Seminole, Florida; his nieces and nephews Alicia, Brianna, Kelly, Steven, Patrick, Brian, William and Michael.
Friends and relatives celebrated Brad’s life on Saturday, January 22nd from 2 to 6 pm at The Broyhill House in Lenoir, NC, overlooking a golf course.
Memorials can be made in Brad’s name to The William Breen Memorial Golf Tournament, which he co-founded; payable to PBA Local 145, Post Office Box 4, East Brunswick, NJ 08816.
Pictured below — Brad in Alaska, September 2010
