It's been a really rough few days. We got the news that Dad's cancer is an aggressive one and is not curable. Although it didn't come as a total shock, the news still bit like a cold north wind on my exposed cheeks. It's very difficult to watch someone be told that they are on borrowed time. Granted, as my Father says, he's had 80 good years. Nevertheless I wonder whether it's easier to pass suddenly. oblivious to the fact that you are living your last minutes or to have some time, but to have to deal with the deterioration of your body and the pain that accompanies that.
We are blessed to have so many people that care for us. The sidewalk leads a steady stream of visitors to the door, the ring of the phone a constant. Offers of help, support and kind words make us feel so very loved.
It's funny the degree to which memories surface when you are spending time together. As we sat in the den last night I recalled our father daughter trip to Florida. At that time we lived in Brighton in a Victorian Home that we rented from a nice elderly lady. My Father, being the kind fellow that he was used to drive her to Florida in the Fall and Fly down to drive her back to Dresden in the Spring. I was lucky to accompany him on one of those trips, spending a week in West Palm Beach. Of course he took me to Disney World. It was a small park then in comparison to now, but I remember it being a pretty great day. I was disappointed that "it's a small world" was closed down, but really enjoyed the Pirates of the Caribbean. Fast forward to the teacup ride. I was spinning the cup so fast that Dad started to look a little green and insisted that I slow it down a bit-party pooper! (grin) On to the haunted house, which gave him a little reprieve from the fast lane.
I took Jonathon to Disney when he was around eight years old. Things had changed immensely since I was ten. It was strange, but "it's a small world" was again closed down for renovations, but the teacups and the haunted house were just as they were 3o years earlier.
I guess through this whole process, many memories and emotions will surface. My musings bring me comfort. In that comfort I shall find the strength that I need to remain as positive as possible and bring comfort to those around me. My biggest comfort is my belief that when he leaves this earth, his life is not over, but rather his next journey begins. Is it a better place as everyone says, or is it just another place, another journey? My wish is that his last days are good days and filled with the love of family and good friends
Dad and his "bestest" buddy