Everyone Is...with Jennifer Coronado
The intent of this show is to engage with all types of people and build an understanding that anyone who has any kind of success has achieved that success because they are creative thinkers. So whether you are an artist, a cook, a bottle washer, or an award-winning journalist, everyone has something to contribute to the human conversation.
Everyone Is...with Jennifer Coronado
The Ballad of Two Ton Ernie
This episode is dedicated to Jen's father who passed away on February 8,2025.
"Rage, rage against the dying of the light."- Dylan Thomas
www.slightlyprod.com
Hi folks, we are working hard to record our next season of Everyone Is, which will be coming out this summer. In the meantime, because we didn't want you to forget about us, we thought we would drop this mini-episode into your feed. We recently lost a key demographic for our pod, my father Jack Van Riemsdyk, so I wanted to share with you a little story I wrote about him. Please note that this podcast episode does deal with some difficult topics around losing a loved one, so make sure to give yourself some emotional space before listening. Thanks, as always.
Speaker 1:I can't talk to you about my father's death without telling you about his life, but before that, the phrase death seems so harsh. You say why can't you say things like his passing or loss of life? And my answer to you is I cannot, because death is a hard word with rough cutting consonants, and death is hard and cutting. I have yet to see peace in death, at least for me, not yet. So death it is In my dad's life. He was a warrior for light. How do you know? You may ask. Because he battled a foe like the world has never seen. The foe was Tutan Ernie. Now, before we continue I am not body-shaming anyone Tutan Ernie was a magical being, a giant of a man, and when I was a child his physical manifestation was very present to me. As I grew, his presence became more of a whisper hidden in the cracks of life and existence. But my father was always there to fight him, until he wasn't. The History of Two-Ton Ernie, five-year-old me, also known as Jenny a name only allowed to be spoken by my family and only because I love them knew the mythos around Two-Ton Ernie. Two-ton Ernie was two tons because he loved to eat children, particularly little girls, and particularly their toes. He had multiple vulnerabilities. For example, two-ton Ernie could not and I repeat, not get under the blankets or pillows. He would immediately suffocate. I will break for a moment to say this is why so many of you can't sleep without covers. You intuitively know that he is lurking in the shadows. Think about it.
Speaker 1:My dad always knew when Tutan Erni was approaching. He could sense it. He would say get under the blankets. Tutan Erni is here. And I would jump into my parents' bed and huddle under the 70s style blanket, all yellow with the weave you could see through. You know the one. I would carefully tuck my legs under my body to protect my toes. I could faintly see the outline of my dad standing in the doorway and hear him yelling not today, you two-ton menace.
Speaker 1:As I heard his body slam against the doorframe, my dad would bounce around the room wrestling two-ton Ernie launching against the dresser, the closet doors, the wall. Mid-fight he would pop his head under the blanket and sweat glistening on his forehead. I think I got him only to be dragged back into the room. I would giggle nervously. Sometimes it would get so quiet and I would wonder where the fight was. Sometimes I would get nervous that Tutan Ernie had stolen my dad. But always, always, my dad would come back into the room triumphant, yelling, undefeated, and I would throw off the blanket and I would jump up and down in the bed celebrating dad's win. Dad always beat him, always, until he didn't See the previous Warrior of Light. Reference Side note for about five years I slept with a blanket pulled up to my chin and a pillow over my head.
Speaker 1:No way was I going to allow Two-Tone Ernie to sneak up on me. I am the child of a warrior of light, after all. As I grew older, my dad no longer needed to fight Two-Tone Ernie directly. The older the child, the more indigestion. Two-tone Ernie suffered, but I saw the evidence of his chaos and so did my dad. He was there when my dad was at Rocket Ship Park with one of my little brothers and I. It was there. My brother and I watched our dad dive headfirst into a roaring creek, fully clothed, to save a young girl he saw disappear under the water. Jason and I got a huge lecture from our dad about not inner tubing, though we had little opportunity to do that at age eight and five. He was there when my dad fired an employee on the spot for not waiting on an African-American family at his restaurant. He was there when my dad stood up at a corporate meeting and said how dare you balance your books on the backs of people who make $10 an hour? Two-ton Ernie was there in the actions of people who didn't care for others, and my dad would never stand for that bullshit. He couldn't others. And my dad would never stand for that bullshit. He couldn't. It was his duty.
Speaker 1:Like most warriors of light, my father was also a stubborn pain in the ass. When he was in his early 40s he discovered he was diabetic. Like my grandmother and his brother, he managed it really well through medication and exercise and healthy eating. Ha no, he managed it by hiding his candy in drawers and cutting slightly smaller gigantic pieces of pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving. However, he did all right Until his late 60s, until his genetics caught up with him.
Speaker 1:We were visiting Chicago he, my youngest brother, my husband and I. Dad's legs were bothering him. We thought he had pulled a muscle. He limped around most of the trip, except when we were downtown and my dad and his brother spotted their favorite hometown candy store, fannie Mae. We thought he had pulled a muscle. He limped around most of the trip, except when we were downtown and my dad and his brother spotted their favorite hometown candy store, fannie Mae. And suddenly he found the speed of an Olympian. My little brother, who tells me he is the funniest one, said he'd never seen two old diabetics move so fast. Maybe he is the funniest one.
Speaker 1:When he got home, my dad found out that he had a blood clot in his leg. We were so lucky nothing happened on that trip. He had surgery, everything seemed okay, and then time and a pandemic, and now he needed a triple bypass, also known as a triple cabbage something he learned from the ICU nurses. And then severe arterial disease and then stents for his legs and then congestive heart failure and kidney issues. And then my dad and I talked every Monday night, usually for a couple of hours, but of late he sounded tired. Lately he could only talk for 20 minutes. I called him on a Monday and he said he hadn't been sleeping and didn't feel well. He let me know he'd had an accident and didn't make it to the bathroom that day. He never told me stuff like that. He was an unreliable narrator who always said everything was fine.
Speaker 1:I immediately called my stepmother and asked what was going on with Dad. She said she wanted to take him to the emergency room, but he was being too stubborn and wouldn't go. He was barely eating. I called him back, pretending I hadn't spoken to my stepmother. Hey, dad, I was thinking. I think you need to go to the ER just to be safe. He immediately got defensive. I am fine, you see. He was a stubborn pain in the ass. I, however, am also a stubborn pain in the ass. Okay, dad, why don't we make a deal? If you aren't feeling better tomorrow, you have to go to the ER, and if you don't, I will show up at your fucking door with a stolen Safeway shopping cart and load you in and push you there myself. He grudgingly agreed.
Speaker 1:He went to the ER the next day. They were going to check him in. His congestive heart failure was causing him problems. Note with careful lifestyle choices you can live 10 years with congestive heart failure. He was waiting in the ER for his room and my stepmother had to leave because visiting hours would be over. When he got into the room he snuck me a call "'I'm calling one of these doctors away. He's an asshole'. I want you to know I love you and, in case I don't get to say it, my four children are the best thing I have ever done. I started pricing flights.
Speaker 1:Interior Tucson.
Speaker 1:I probably have this next sequence of events a little off. You'll have to forgive me because I wasn't there for this part and this all just sucks.
Speaker 1:He was in his regular room but his kidney doctor came in to say John, I'm not going to let you die. And it made my dad feel better. This wonderful doctor from Africa, another warrior of light. My aunt was there, my stepmother, my oldest younger brother. I have three little brothers. Dad suddenly took a turn. He was suddenly hallucinating. He said things like where is Kenny? We have to save him. Call 555-1212. Someone is going to die tonight. I think he was mixing his childhood memories with episodes of NCIS. Shout out to the indelible mark that Mark Harmon leaves on older people.
Speaker 1:He also tried to punch a nurse, thinking she was two-ton Ernie. I imagine by the time I and my brothers got there, dad was in the ICU, the first one. He was lucid. When we saw him, also sneaky, the doctors had him on limited fluids and he would look at me drinking my water and say what is that? And I would say my water. And he would look around and make sure a nurse wasn't there and point at his cup. I'm not going to lie. I poured him a few drops of my water. Oh, that's good, he said, and the nurse came in and he thanked her for her help and she left and my stepmother said that was the nurse you tried to punch. He shrugged his shoulders and smirked Maybe she deserved it.
Speaker 1:He joked Gallows humor. He took turns holding each of our hands. Choked gallows humor. He took turns holding each of our hands. Only two of us were allowed in at a time. I love you. He kept saying I don't want to die. He kept saying it was getting close to visiting hours being over, my youngest brother and I were there. Everyone else had gone home to get some rest. Dad was finding it hard to get comfortable. His back was bothering him. He said he needed to use the bathroom. So we grabbed the nurses and left him for a few minutes to give him privacy.
Speaker 1:My brother and I wandered out to the waiting room and sat down, code blue room 447, code blue blared over the speakers. I jumped up. That's dad's room. We have to go. My little brother looked stunned. Won't we just be in the way? I put on my older sister cape, the one I wear on occasion. I said stay here, little bro, I will check to see what's going on.
Speaker 1:I rushed down the hall to my dad's room. There was a group of six or seven or a million people huddled outside his room and inside his room was chaos. They were performing CPR and my dad was so exposed. They were performing CPR and my dad was so exposed. I'm here, dad, it's okay, fight. I said I had let two-ton Ernie slip in while my dad was vulnerable. How could I have done that? I was shaking and I felt a tap on my shoulder and I looked at the nurse and she said it wasn't me. And I looked to my left and it was my little brother and he was crying and I hugged him. He towers a foot taller than me and I wished he was the little kid I used to lift up and play airplane with, just so I could make it better. I just don't have the arm strength. They stabilized dad. He was mumbling.
Speaker 1:The doctors came to us. They decided to medivac him to another hospital with a cardiac ICU, and the helicopter was on its way. My brother called his mom, or I did, I don't remember. I called my oldest, younger brother and told him what was going on. What should I do? He said. I said they're taking dad to another hospital and they won't let us see him tonight. So get some rest. I don't know how he did it, my brother, or how fast he was going to get there, but within ten minutes my brother, or how fast he was going to get there, but within 10 minutes my brother was there by our side While we were waiting. I said Dad, you could fly in a helicopter, isn't that so cool? But it was not cool. I just didn't know what to say. I just did not know what to do. Oh Jesus, our dad said. Oh Jesus, help me. His Catholic was showing.
Speaker 1:New hospital, new rules.
Speaker 1:The next day, a new hospital, new ICU. This one focused on cardiac care. Once again, only two people at a time could sit with my dad. We all took turns. During one of my breaks I wandered outside into the desert sun and I ran. In my jeans and sweatshirt I ran across the parking lot into the Tucson desert behind the hospital. I ran because I was full of grief and rage and I needed to do something besides cry. I couldn't cry. There were too many sad people and I couldn't contribute to that. Not yet. I came back into the hospital 20 minutes later and in that time of my brief absence the doctor told my stepmother that my dad was very sick and we should be prepared. Somehow I had managed again to not be there when they delivered the worst news.
Speaker 1:It wasn't long after that that my dad coded again. We were sitting in the waiting room and only my aunt was sitting with him when it happened. This time we heard the announcement over the PA code blue, room 111. My stepmother turned white and I ran to the ICU door and I pressed the button to be let in and they wouldn't let me in Please. I said that's my dad. I said I looked down the hall to see my 83-year-old aunt come wandering out the other door. We all went to the open door and the nurses said one person could come in and sit in a chair in the hallway by my dad's room. We sent my stepmother in and we could see her sitting in the chair looking so lost. A nurse took pity on us and let us stand by her in the hallway.
Speaker 1:They managed to stabilize my dad, we think I guess I found their nurse practitioner and asked if there was a priest to deliver last rites, just in case. I don't know why I wanted that. I think it's because my agnostic dad was praying for his life. They found us a minister who was very helpful. She said I'm not a priest, I'm non-denominational. I said it's okay, he's not that Catholic. They were now going to try dialysis on my dad because his kidneys were failing. We, however, didn't want them to do CPR again if he coded. They had already broken his ribs. He was on so many machines. They were breathing for him. We wanted them to try to stabilize him to not make him suffer more. So the minister brought us the DNR paperwork to sign Do not resuscitate no more. Code blues, daddy. As a side note, my dad's favorite song was Rhapsody in Blue. My littlest gigantic brother has a tattoo of it on his arm in honor of my dad.
Speaker 1:My husband didn't want me to tell this next part of the story. He felt, I think, that it undermined the story of my dad. I listened to his points and, like most wives, have decided to not do what he said anyway. You see, my husband wasn't there and had to stay home because he himself was having a health issue that wouldn't allow him to travel. So he didn't experience it. How jarring it was. So here we go, two-tone Ernie's Minions.
Speaker 1:We'd just signed the DNR paperwork and were all sitting in the ICU waiting room waiting and hoping that it wouldn't be needed, when a woman who'd been sitting in the corner with a person we assumed was her husband came up to us. I'm so sorry to hear what you're going through. We thanked her and then she addressed my stepmother Does your husband know Jesus? "'my stepmother looked confused. "'we just talked to the minister'. She said "'The woman pressed on. "'in order for your husband to get into the kingdom of heaven, "'he must know Jesus. "'i can go back there and pray over him. "'i saw my brother start to tense his jaw up. "'i jumped in. "'we will handle things in our own way, thank you. "'you can go back and sit down' "'She slunk back to the corner. "'and and sit down. She slunk back to the corner and she and her husband loudly talked about how our family didn't understand what we were doing.
Speaker 1:I want you to know something these people were not Christians. There was no love in what they were offering. They were predators who sat in a room looking to take advantage of people in their darkest moments. They didn't want people to ascend anywhere. They wanted a notch on their belt for their own benefit. It was gross and dark. I recognized them immediately for who they were. They were two-ton Ernie's minions and I was going to be good and goddamned if they got anywhere near my father. Praise Jesus.
Speaker 1:It wasn't long before the minister came to tell us that it was time and we needed to come quickly. The air was so thick to walk through. I felt like everything around me was jello. We all surrounded my dad, my family, minus my poor middle brother who had to run his son home, and the minister, and it was so loud with the machines and the prayer it felt weird and unsettling. In hindsight, maybe it should have been quieter. I know my brother thought that. However, I also know that my dad was extremely dramatic. It's hereditary and there was a part of him that would have loved the flair. Then again, it was only loud until it was deadly quiet.
Speaker 1:And so there are many people in this world who have a ton of stuff and they hoard more and more stuff and yet they find no joy in their lives, no love. My dad didn't have a ton of stuff or eat money, but when he died his pharmacist cried and so did his dental hygienist, and the people at Starbucks were disappointed he wasn't coming around anymore because they had so much to tell him. His neighbor who was going through dialysis and who he and my stepmother delivered their meals on wheels, can't believe it. His wife, his older brother and sister, my cousins, my brothers, his grandchildren, they all feel lesser because he is gone and me it's so much darker here without my warrior of light. My cousins, my brothers, his grandchildren, they all feel lesser because he is gone and me it's so much darker here without my warrior of light. How do we stay safe? Who replaces him? I guess I will have to find a way to come out from under this blanket.
