I started this blog to help me work through my dad's illness and eventual passing. From time to time, I jot down little notes on my phone or on my computer, but I have yet to post a second entry. As I watch my dad grow thinner and more frail, I feel completely off kilter. He is my dad. My daddy. My tender-hearted, loud and imposing, CONSTANT. I don't want to let him go and neither does mom.
What could be more painful than losing my father?
- Watching mom and dad try to make sense of his diagnosis.
- Seeing mom's despair at the thought of losing her lifelong companion, her means and support, her loyal caretaker and faithful friend.
- Fearing that dad's fight will end without assurance that mom will persevere or that his children will overcome their struggles and lead peaceful lives.
I don't know if these things are more painful...they simply make it all the more devastating and real.
But there are good moments -
- Having time to spend with him and listen to those stories about the Captain, his college years, and adventures with Uncle Bob all over again is a joy.
- Discussing those topics that we haven't broached for decades like faith and hope and meaning have been treasured moments.
- And the transition that my heart has made for dad over the years has given me peace.
It is a relief - a feeling of contentment - to know that I have looked to him as my hero and my protector, and on to anger and pain as I began to recognize his humanity. But once I realized that even fathers have faults, I was able to see those shortcomings in a different light and we've spent so much of the last decade(s) just enjoying one another. Now I look at him with the same love and grace that he has given me for 43 years. And even though he is slipping away from me, I thank God that I have known dad's great love for me and that we still have today to share with one another. I thank God that He is my true constant.
