"We skipped the light fandango"
This last couple of weeks have been interesting, educational , heart wrenching and perspective making. I am lucky in some ways that my inner drive to move forward , to sponge up everything and everyone keeps me continually experiencing something or someone new. There are however some experiences I would chose to keep at bay if I had a choice.
A couple of weeks of ago I get a call from my dear old dad " can you take me to the hospital" after a quick assessment over the phone I knew it was bad. I was at work and had seen his phone call come in earlier but declined it as I was sitting with coworkers. I did however call him back immediately after I was done but I am not sure that moment of pushing decline on my stupid phone will ever leave me. Maybe its meant to teach me something. Hopefully guilt turns to a lesson learned. Anyways, upon returning his phone call I quickly realised he was quite ill. I called 911, a family member and took a moment gather my thoughts before I raced to his home. They were bringing him to the ambulance when I got there, I looked at his fragile body as they held him out the door and thought " I am gonna lose him aren't I". Guilt and panic jumbled in my head. During the last year while going through cancer treatment I was not able to be there for him like I had been. I knew during treatment I had to pull back to fill my cup so that I could be there for him when I was better. I really was still getting back to being there when this happens. Of course I made it all about me at first. Thoughts of " can I do this" " I never got to be there for him" " this is my fault for not being around more". Oh for god sakes Sondria knock it off. With a very difficult two weeks behind us he is still here and the lighter shade of pale he took on has been replaced with rose coloured cheeks. He is no longer the exact same person he was before he entered the hospital and some changes must take place. The one thing that went through my mind as I watched him struggle back from pneumonia was I needed to honour his life. He deserved to have someone there, to not be alone. His 84 years of living, his 84 years of stories he tells so wonderfully, needed validation for being. I would want that no matter how long I live, which after cancer means sometimes you count the days, hours, minutes. You chose to make sure you live with purpose and sincerely. I didn't think I had the physical, or emotional fortitude to make it through the last few weeks, but I found it knowing what I was doing, being there, was what I needed to do. I will be forever his little girl who sat on his knee or flung my arms around his neck when he came home from work. He was the person who did not let my adopted mom return me to the foster care system cause I was a little screwed up 17 month old when they got me. He said " Mary we can't bring her back, it will break her spirit". He always talked about my spirit when he had first adopted me. How I fought for everything at such a young age with maybe too much experience of not receiving what I needed most as a baby. I will be eternally grateful to him for being my advocate and seeing my potential no matter how young I was. Something I have continued to do through my work life for others.
I had written something for my dad for his birthday a few years ago. Just to say thank you not really knowing how.
Now I must honor my own life.