- Joined
- Jul 7, 2010
- Messages
- 14,792
A lot of you have suffered loss in the last year or two. I can think of several members who've lost loved ones, fathers, mothers and wives. I've known my time was coming. And yesterday about 3PM Eastern, I lost Dad.
I've been traveling up to Michigan an awful lot since last April. Dad is a cancer (VERY aggressive lung cancer) survivor from 2008, but last April he was diagnosed pre-leukemia (which we had known was possibly going to happen at some point). And for most of this year, he's been in and out of the hospital, rehab and various home cares. Mom wound up his primary care giver and there was lot to do to stay in the fight to see if we could beat it out again. Starting in September, things started going a little more down hill and by early November he was home on hospice.
Through the whole of it, Dad was never down beat. He admitted to being scared to go through the process of dying, but he wasn't afraid of being dead. We think he wrestled with realizing he was indeed dying, but he was honestly never really sad or depressed. Up until a week or so ago, when he wasn't worn out he could really even joke around and hold a little bit of a conversation. It was a tough road to walk with him, but it really could have been a lot worse. No real pain, no substantial suffering.
I could tell you a lot of stories about him. He's really an amazing guy. As a kid we did it all: sailed boats, flew airplanes, shot guns, fished, did a little exploring and found every opportunity to laugh. That stayed true as we all grew up. He loved having a family around him, and he's always the most content when he can see the whole herd of us gathered together. He's a man of incredible confidence, and if he believes he's right he can stand all alone, on a limb, face to the wind, and not even wince. Every value I can think of, I can find exemplified in my Dad. And he loved my mom for over 54 years.
Loss on one hand for sure. I'm gonna' miss him. - - Whomever you think of, go hug 'em. Take every minute you can. Don't waste one. But, I'm grateful for the time we had here. We'll be together again someday, just like he is with his mom and dad and grandparents.
I remember him saying, when we buried his mom, "Goodnight Mom." So, I'll say the same thing. "Good night, Dad. I'll see you some morning."
I've been traveling up to Michigan an awful lot since last April. Dad is a cancer (VERY aggressive lung cancer) survivor from 2008, but last April he was diagnosed pre-leukemia (which we had known was possibly going to happen at some point). And for most of this year, he's been in and out of the hospital, rehab and various home cares. Mom wound up his primary care giver and there was lot to do to stay in the fight to see if we could beat it out again. Starting in September, things started going a little more down hill and by early November he was home on hospice.
Through the whole of it, Dad was never down beat. He admitted to being scared to go through the process of dying, but he wasn't afraid of being dead. We think he wrestled with realizing he was indeed dying, but he was honestly never really sad or depressed. Up until a week or so ago, when he wasn't worn out he could really even joke around and hold a little bit of a conversation. It was a tough road to walk with him, but it really could have been a lot worse. No real pain, no substantial suffering.
I could tell you a lot of stories about him. He's really an amazing guy. As a kid we did it all: sailed boats, flew airplanes, shot guns, fished, did a little exploring and found every opportunity to laugh. That stayed true as we all grew up. He loved having a family around him, and he's always the most content when he can see the whole herd of us gathered together. He's a man of incredible confidence, and if he believes he's right he can stand all alone, on a limb, face to the wind, and not even wince. Every value I can think of, I can find exemplified in my Dad. And he loved my mom for over 54 years.
Loss on one hand for sure. I'm gonna' miss him. - - Whomever you think of, go hug 'em. Take every minute you can. Don't waste one. But, I'm grateful for the time we had here. We'll be together again someday, just like he is with his mom and dad and grandparents.
I remember him saying, when we buried his mom, "Goodnight Mom." So, I'll say the same thing. "Good night, Dad. I'll see you some morning."
