So What's Up John?

I haven't really made any kind of a personal post in a long time. The reason for this is because my father passed away a few weeks ago and I just couldn't bring myself to post about much of anything. It was no surprise that my father passed away, he has been dying of cancer for two and a half years. When he first learned he had cancer he was told it was already stage four cancer in his colon and liver and was given less than six months to live. Dad went into quite a panic and was scheduled for emergency surgery right away. Dad really wanted to get his affairs in order because he was worried he might, perhaps, not live through the surgery.

In a short few days I bought some property from my Dad so he would have the money he felt he needed to settle his affairs. I also signed a power of attorney and did my best to support him during his hospital stay. Dad didn't really handle the whole prospect of his mortality very well. I thought it a little bit strange since Dad had almost died many, many, times during his life. He had a very bad habit of falling asleep at the wheel driving his car because he would work 12 hour shifts and then commute two hours each way on top of that. He wrecked many cars in his life and, one time, hit a family head on in a high speed collision. A mother and child died and other family members were seriously injured. My Dad suffered a broken neck and was in surgery for over 18 hours. We were told he would not live at the time. You know those weird contraptions you see on people's heads, with the bolts that go into the skull, and a large brace all around? My Dad was one of the first people to ever got one of those and it was considered highly experimental at the time.

While he recovered for many months afterward my brothers worked jobs to keep the family afloat. Still, he did recover and, in time, managed to wreck many more cars by falling asleep at the wheel. One time I had the pleasure of spinning out on a freeway in a car with my Dad because he hydroplaned with slick tires. Good times.

Considering how many times my Dad almost died I couldn't quite understand how strongly he reacted to the news of his cancer. I guess it was because he knew about it ahead of time and had to deal with it. He grew very depressed, and was miserable and obsessed with it for a number of months.

I don't know if it was fair or not, but I just couldn't understand. Maybe I am fooling myself, but I feel like my experience in the 3rd degree of Masonry, and our many repetitions of that ceremony as well as participating in Masonic funerals, have prepared me intellectually to deal with the concept of my own mortality.

Nevertheless, a funny thing happened to my father on the way to his death. He didn't die. Every time he went back to the doctor the news was worse. The cancer spread from his colon, to his liver, to his stomach, to his lymph nodes. At one point he was scheduled for surgery and upon opening him up the doctor immediately closed him up again realizing there was absolutely nothing he could do. That was over a year ago.

Eventually my Dad got tired of being depressed every day since, as it turns out, he wasn't actually dead yet. So, finally, he took our advice and started living his life to its fullest. He began playing golf constantly with his brothers and nephews. I went down and played a round of golf with him whenever I could. He had a regular Friday night pool match with his brothers, nephews, and grandsons.

My Dad was a pretty tough guy. He could hold a grudge and would have long standing feuds with people. As he realized his time left was short he let all of that go. He reconnected with everyone in his family and went out of his way to help and support those around him.

During this two and a half year period, in general, Dad was asymptomatic. Sure he was in pain from time to time, and worn out from chemo, but he was never an invalid. In fact, just eight days before his death he played 18 holes of golf.

When it finally was getting near the end, those last few days, it was obvious. I took time off of work to go down and be by his side, and held vigil his last two days. It was pretty horrific watching him struggle those last 48 hours. When Dad finally took his last fateful breath all three of his living children were holding his hand at the bedside.

In the days that followed, trying to arrange for the funeral and everything else, everyone was very emotional. I was very disappointed that my much older brother and I had a disagreement that led to an angry parting. Everyone copes with these things in their own way I suppose.

One thing that changed immediately once my Dad was gone is that, frankly, he no longer has control over the family. Before his death there were certain assumptions about how things were going to be dealt with, based on his wishes and desires. However, once he was gone, the only real wishes and desires I was concerned about were those of my Mom. My Mom who has not been able to make independent decisions for herself in over fifty years.

I spoke to my Mom and talked to her about all of her options and made it clear that she had many. After much discussion she decided she would like to move into her own apartment and regain a certain amount of independence. So, just yesterday, I helped my Mom sign the lease on her new apartment and this Saturday my sister and I will help her move in. On Sunday my wife and I will begin the difficult process of getting the house ready to sell.

This might be fairly difficult considering the current economic climate, but what are you going to do. My wife and I bought the house a number of years ago so my Mom would have a place to live. Prior to that my Mom was living in a 120 year old farmhouse which, to be frank, was literally a shack. The roof was rotting and had open holes to the sky in it. The home had no heating or cooling other than trying to throw logs into an ancient furnace. I spent years trying to convince my Dad to leave that farm but he was stubbornly independent. Since this was the only piece of property he had ever owned in his life, he refused to leave; even though it was a horrible place for my mother to live.

Then, one day, the realization hit me that even though Dad would never let that farm go, that didn't necessarily mean he wouldn't live some place nicer. I posed the question to Dad, "What would you do if I bought you and Mom a nice house to live in in Jefferson City?" Dad responded with a question, "You mean, to live in but I could still keep the farm?" I replied "Yes." Finally, to my great relief, Dad responded "I would be out of here in a week."

On the way home I broke down in tears sobbing and sobbing when I realized that this was all I had needed to do to get my mom out of that horrible place all of the years she had to stay there. My wife and I found and purchased a home and in less than four weeks my Mom was able to live in the first nice modern home she had ever lived in in her entire life.

It's weird being able to say these things. This is the kind of personal stuff I never put on my blog, or never would have put on it before. My Mom has a wish that none of us say anything bad about our Father now that he is gone. I can respect that. I realize there is no real benefit to doing so. My father was a Marine and raised all of us children as if he was our drill sergeant. Growing up, his name was not Dad, it was 'Sir'. My Mom suffered from mental illness and, in large part to protect her, he treated us as prisoners, keeping us locked up so no harm could come to us that might, in turn, affect our mother. Due to my mothers illness at a number of times growing up we had to live with relatives for extended periods of time. Due to our poverty and other pressures my brothers and myself all worked part-time to full-time in plastics factories since we were in our early teens to support our family.

I'm glad my father was able to enjoy his last few years of life so much. I'm glad he was able to be able to share so many great times with his brothers, nephews, and grandchildren. I am glad he was able to find forgiveness in his heart and I will try to do the same. Today my primary concern is, as it always has been, for my Mom and making sure that her least years are as happy as they can possibly be. With the help of my sister I am sure we will make that happen.