I’m convinced that fathers and sons have far and away the most complicated relationship any two people on this earth can have. All a father wants is for their son to become a better version of themselves. At least, that’s what I’ve gathered from my 2+ months as a father. I don’t think it ever dawns on you until you have a son of your own. But that’s your hope. My dad and I butted heads for 28 years, but it was always out of love. There’s no father and son who haven’t. I’ll go toe-to-toe with my own son one day because I don’t want to see him make some of the same idiotic decisions I have made. And he’ll never realize this until he has a son. And it’s a cycle that will repeat itself until the end of time. That’s fathers and sons.
And now, at 28, I find myself at a strange place in life. My 60 year old father and my infant son both depend on me to hold them up. Neither of them have the strength on their own to do what they want without my help. It’s terrifying to sit here and watch the man who raised me to be strong and tough, now unable to sit up in bed or go to the bathroom without my help.
I’m still trying to wrap my head around how I feel about cancer. I obviously hate the way it’s ravaged my dad’s body. I hate seeing the strength he spent a lifetime acquiring be so suddenly and painfully taken from him. But for all the horrible pain cancer causes, it also gives the strangest gift at the very end. It gives us closure in a way no other form of death can.
Just the other day, I saw where a tow-truck driver died instantly after a tree fell on his truck. Death came swiftly and without warning. He had no goodbyes. He wasn’t surrounded by family or loved ones. Just himself, alone in a tow-truck.
None of us are leaving this world alive. For most of us it’s sudden and we’re either alone or surrounded by strangers. At least cancer allows us to say “I love you,” one final time with our families ushering us into God’s arms.
In my mind, my dad will always be tough. One of my favorite stories of his was about the time he and his friend Mike Hicks went backpacking in the Great Smokey Mountains. They made camp and settled in for the night at a pretty high altitude. They awoke the next morning with several inches of frost inside of the top of their tent. That frost was actually their breath which had frozen to the inside of the tent while they slept. A freak blizzard had hit and they awoke to sub-zero temperatures and several feet of snow. My dad said that while they were packing up their gear, it dawned on him that they might not make it out alive. Surrounded by snow & temperatures they weren’t prepared for, they began hiking down the mountain. They eventually managed to hike down to the nearest known Ranger Station, a good 1,000 feet lower in elevation then where they had made camp. The thermometer at the station had gotten down to 20 degrees below zero that night, and there was no way of knowing exactly how much colder it had gotten where they had camped. The rangers were surprised anyone could have survived a night unprepared under those conditions.
And that was my dad, as tough as they come. And that’s why it’s so hard to sit here and watch him weak and dying, struggling to talk. This isn’t who he’s supposed to be, this isn’t how I want to remember him. For me, that’s one of the things I’ve struggled with the most. I don’t want these last few days with my dad to be my final memories of him.
Luckily I’m blessed with great friends and on Sunday, Adam, Ben & Ken showed up. We rode around and talked for a while and I expressed these thoughts to them. Adam’s response was flawless:
“I think you’ve got it all wrong. What better way to remember your dad than by being able to serve him? Your entire life he’s been there to help you whenever you needed it. Now as he’s getting ready to leave this world you’re here to help serve him just as Christ would. What a gift.”
My dad was never a monument to health, but he always bounced back. Between diabetes, kidney stones, and 4 different types of cancer, he’s been a fighter his entire life, which is why there’s no possible way to describe how it felt to hear him tell me he was ready to die. He’s not supposed to die. He’s supposed to be here to help me teach my son how to swing a golf club and how to work on cars. He’s supposed to be here every Saturday during the fall to teach Deegan the Alabama fight song. He’s supposed to be here to tease him about first dates and first girlfriends. He’s supposed to be here.
But that’s not true. He’s not supposed to be here. That’s just my selfish human nature getting in the way of reality. God wouldn’t let something happen to us that he didn’t want to happen. After all, how do you make God laugh?
You make plans.
My dad’s life and his battle with cancer have served as an inspiration to many and his death will be counted as a great loss. If you asked him, he’d be the first to tell you that he was never anything but a sinner. An awful, lowly sinner saved by grace. But aren’t we all? He just had the guts to admit it.
Last Wednesday, when the Doctors told us “We’re focusing on quality of life instead of quantity of life,” was the worst part. It meant time was running out. I tried to imagine being in that condition and how it must feel to trust in anyone other than the Lord. I’d feel hopeless and helpless. I can’t imagine approaching death scared and alone. Spending those last days on earth terrified of what awaited you beyond the grave.
My dad doesn’t have that fear. He knows where he’s going. He isn’t afraid because he knows that what awaits him is far better than what he’s leaving behind.
- bc
Been there, done that far too many times, I understand your love!
My sympathies. I think if I were dying, I’d like my children to be there hugging me. I was for my mum.
Unfortunately we get many sad days in our lives, but we must remember to live for the good ones. My dad had a major heart attack two days ago and had to have heart surgery. He seems fine now… Apparently he has had other attacks before… Sometimes people die so fast and without warning and then we feel cheated from saying good bye. I prefer being cheated out of this than seeing one I love suffer and die slowly. One of my best friends ended up in the same hospital as me on the day that my daughter was born…She was told she had cancer…Two years later she died. She had a 3 year old daughter. I know many who have died from cancer. It´s tough. If you love somebody give as much as love as possible to them everyday. We all die sooner or later and it´s best to fill the days with smiles, laughs and hugs than regrets afterwards. But we will see them again!
That´s for sure. You have a nice blog, by the way.
“We’re focusing on quality of life instead of quantity of life.” you are right, that is one of the worst things I’ve heard since we first found out about my father’s cancer. It meant they were giving up on making him better. Thanks for sharing.
Beautiful post. I understand your thoughts, I want my dad there when I get around to kids and all the works, teach them to ride their bike how he taught me!
You are right though, it is sad but definitely preferable to be able to say goodbye rather than die alone in a car or something!
Congratulations on your son, just think, at least your dad got to meet him before he died!
What a powerful testament to the beauty and grace that comes with serving others. Thank you for sharing your story.
Very, very touching and moving, Beau.
Grace, grace and more grace to you in the coming days.
Thank you for sharing your journey.
Beautiful post, simply beautiful.
Beautiful Post. What a loving tribute to your father and a treasure for your son to have when he is old enough to read it and understand love. Treasure every moment of serving your father. I’ve been through your situation and it is not easy to watch your father, the pillar of strength and wisdom in your life, fade away to a dreadful, violent disease. You, your father, and your new born son are in my thoughts and prayers. Your outlook, and your faith will see you through this emotional trial of loss. Stay strong and keep reminding yourself that your father will receive the miracle of life with Christ and then be able to watch over you and your little one. You’ll be graced with little hints of his being every day.
Robyn
May the Lord bless you, strengthen you and comfort you… what a blessing you have been to your dad and the the many others who were blessed to read your story. You could have selfishly kept each moment cherished and the pain to yourself, but instead, you chose to share it with others – thus leaving a legacy of hope to countless others. Thank you.
Thanks for sharing. My dad is my hero. I know that come that day when he passes on to Heaven, my world will be rocked. I am so glad he has peace about passing. Knowing God does ease the fear in trials. I encourage you to make as many memories as you can while he is still around. You will treasure them.
CherylZ1961
My prayers are with you. My father has overcome four kinds of cancer, has been on dialysis for 11 years, and recently had a heart attack. Plus there are signs that his lung cancer is growing. As we drive him to doctor appointments and help him get all his pills in order, I realize he may not be here much longer. However, like your dad, he knows where he is going, and he says he is ready. I am grateful for that and for the time we have together. My your time with your father be rich in love and leave you with good memories!
Touching
This absolutely priceless. Your dad and your friends display wisdom for us all. Love is our one gift to give – in our comings and goings. Godspeed.
Hi-great site. Based on the opening statement, I think you would appreciate my “Almost Dying” essay on my blog. I hope you will visit and read that story. Patricia
Beautiful, beautiful post. Bless your heart, and your wonderful dad.
I loved your words. The depth of lineage that your convey is wonderful. Your Dad may not be “here” as your son grows up, and yet he will be in his life just as surely as if the cancer had not taken him away. Because he will be in every story you tell your little boy, in every “I love you”, in every “have I told you when your grampy did, said…”. This wonderful figure will colour every big moment of your son’s life. And each time, I suspect you will carry a little smile in your heart, together with a little tear. I wish you all the luck and courage and strength in the world…
beautiful post x
Heart-wrenching. God bless. Thanks for sharing.
Your friend Adam is very smart. Those words really hit home to me as did your story. It’s hard to watch the ones we love grow weaker when we are powerless to stop it.
Beautiful tribute to your father and your mutual love for each other. I’m so glad i happened upon your words. I will keep your family in my prayers.
A beautiful post on your love for your Dad. Imagine the joy when one day your father awakens to hear his Father say “Well done, good and faithful servant!” May we all, as fathers, hear those words from our heavenly Father someday.
What a beautiful story. Thank you for sharing it with us and to find the beauty and the gift. Blessings to you and your family.
Beautiful post. But hard to write no doubt. My prediction is that you will remember him as he was throughout your life, not this ending. His strength at the end is the lesson. My thoughts are with you and your family. -Lee
Wow, how beautiful and thoughtfully written.
My prayers are with you and your family that your Dad will not suffer in his last days. Sending you my love and positive energy.
This was one of the best articles I think I have ever read – thank you for sharing it really touched my heart.
This is beautiful. Thank you for sharing. It’s neat to hear another perspective. My daddy died almost three months ago and it was VERY sudden and VERY surprising. I saw him Sunday night never dreaming that would be the last time, that he’d be gone Tuesday morning. My daddy was very strong and very active too and I know it would have been worse than death to get sick and not be able to do the things he loved so I would never wish that I would have lost him slower, but, like you said, you get to say goodbye. You get the chance to tell him all the things you want/need to tell him. We don’t like His timing but we see how God orchestrated my daddy’s home going.
Bless you and your family. I pray God gives you a strength and peace that can only come from Him. Get lots of pictures of your son with your dad (I wish I had more of those but we never dreamed we’d have such a short time – my son was only 3 months old) and, believe me, that little boy will be such a blessing when you begin your new normal without your father.
Beautifully written. The cycle of life. As a former Hospice nurse it was my privilege to care for patients with terminal illnesses and their families. The dying are among the most courageous people I have encountered in life. The time with them as I’m sure you can agree, is bittersweet. Indeed to offer your loved one the care they need and surround them with love in their final days is indeed a gift to them as well as to yourself. Something you will never regret. God Bless! Thanks for sharing.
Praying for you as you deal with the death of your father. I’ve been in your shoes, and they are not comfortable. I’ve also faced cancer. Again, not a good thing. But our God is bigger than cancer, and His Son conquered death on the cross. May God give you the peace that passes understanding. Thank you for sharing.
Seriously moving as I can relate so well and gave me tears. I’m glad I saw this
This is beautiful. Watching a loved one die is difficult but your friend has it right, what better way to remember him than by serving him? I know the Lord is wrapping you in His arms, arms that will sustain you and give you peace as you walk this road with Him.
My connection to this post is three-fold. I am a hospice chaplain and this battle is one I see every day, often so much that I forget how amazing this opportunity is for families to say good bye. Second, I’m the son of an aging father, who although still in pretty good health, needs my help more than he used to. Third, my son will be born sometime in the next 5 weeks and I have all of these issues rolling in my head about how long he’ll have his grandfather with him. My hospice work means that death is always on my mind. I find myself randomly thinking about things I’ll say at my father’s funeral and pondering what it will be like when the time comes. This post is beautifully written and a testament to your father’s faith. I’m glad I clicked this link today. May you feel God’s richest blessings as you continue to say good-bye to someone who is obviously a great man.
I would “like” this post, but really there isnt too much to “like” about death. I wish I had 1/2 the strength you do to say the things you have said. My thoughts are with you in this difficult time.
You are right love is watching someone die, not Ira Mae my alter ego but me with my daughter 2 years ago, your entry… read through my tears touched me deeply. I have sent your site to everyone in “my” address book. You will be in my heart and prayers. eam/aka.Ira Mae. “Hugs”