I got this email yesterday from a dear friend. It made me reflect once more about the importance of how we approach death particularly, as men, when the person dying is our father.
“Friends,
After a hectic summer, I wanted to take some time to give an update on my dads health and my experience with him over the last few months.
For those that do not know, my dad has been battling cancer since early this summer. We found out in May that he had cancer and that it was terminal. The doctors wanted to try to manage the tumors with some light chemo, in an effort to keep them from growing and give him as much possible time. This past week we got some bad, though not entirely unexpected, news that the chemo is not working and he has a large, and fast growing, tumor on his abdomen wall and bowels. The doctors took him off chemo and have given the okay to stop taking some of his heart medicine in an effort to make him more comfortable. They are giving him steroids which will hopefully boost his strength and this monday he’ll be put on hospice care to manage any pain he will have from here on out. It is likely that he could have another bowel obstruction-which was the last surgery he had in May-but they will not do any more operations, instead hospice will be there to manage the pain. The doctors told us it is months not years and at this point the doctors have done all they can. The only orders were to spend time with family and friends. Overall his spirits seem high, but we are all feeling the emotional roller coaster that comes with knowing your father/husband/friend has months to live. Last week he and I drove up to Connecticut together to spend a week with our immediate family which was very special and this weekend he decided to fly to new hamshire for a wedding. He is tired a good bit but still active and loves to see people. We are looking forward to an adult only get away in September (though we canceled the Italy plans). Ok so this paragraph covers the health update…now on to my experience.
Earlier this summer when we first found out, a friend told me that as painful as this experience will be, this has the opportunity to be one of the most enriching life experiences of my life. I can honestly say that the past few months have been exactly that. I took July off from work and spent as much time as possible with my Dad. We made a bucket list and went on day trips like the zoo with Isabella and shooting at a gun range with my sister. The most meaningful times were not the trips, but the conversations we had at my parents house.
Once we got past the fear of letting the other person see us cry or sob, we were able to get real with one another on a whole new level – we had multiple talks about how much we love each other, what our relationship means to one another and our thoughts and fears about him leaving us. I was also surprised to realize how much i did not know about my dad and thankful that i was able to ask. I cant help wondering if there is anything i am forgetting to say or do for my dad, but have faith in the process. I wanted to share this experience with all you because (a) death is something that we all have in common, (b) i believe we have a choice how we experience it and (c) everyone on this email has directly impacted my life, my family and/ or my dad’s.
My Dad has taught me how to how to have character, be a man, friend, neighbor, husband, father and son. Over the past few months he has taught me to how to do all these things in an even better way by teaching me how to care for a loved one that is dying, as well as given me a blueprint for how to go through the process when it is my turn.
If this email moves you i only ask that you please keep us in your thoughts and prayers; and that you take some time to tell people close to you what you need to tell them, because not everyone has the luxury of knowing when they are going to die. My family and I are lucky to have the friends and family we have – these relationships are the fabric of our life experience.
My Dad and family talk openly about this so if you run into us don’t be afraid to ask how we are doing. Feel free to let any other friends know what’s going on. Also if anyone wants to send a card/email to my dad or stop by for a visit i know he would love it.
Peter Flick”
Thanks for sharing this. It helps.
Comment by Martie — August 9, 2009 @ 9:22 am
Peter,
Please tell your father for me that his story has touched me deeply, that I find him incredibly courageous. His/your story has changed me in some profound way — up until this moment it didn’t occur to me that death could be treated with love and not fear, and I thank you for that. Best wishes to you both, and thank you for sharing your story with those of us who, until this moment, have not even met you.
Comment by Lisa Hickey — August 9, 2009 @ 10:47 am
We are all here to glorify God and to learn how to return to Him.
When my Father’s prostate cancer metastisized to his bones and it was wide spread , we were told that pain management was the only recourse. Strong pain meds helped, but we had to learn how to manage in-between doses…even if it was simply ibuprofen. Radiation helped the back pain a bit and we faithfully went to his sessions. A trial drug came up and Dad was accepted into the study. He knew that he would not benefit, but others might. I watched and became a co-worker with my Dad on his journey of returning to God. We learned to appreciate the small things…the serendipidous insights into health and life management. He went back to his childhood and shared with me the memories and moments he had with his Dad and Mom. I will forever remember and cherish our morning ritual. While he could still walk, he would get up beforoe me in the morning and make and pour our coffee cups and we would share the Bible verses from two perpetual calendars that I had given him many years before. When Dad was no longer with me in mind…I continued to “go to work” as if he was walking right along side me.. Fulfilling his needs wasn’t a “nine- to- five – just -show- up -at- work” venture. It was peaceful and rewarding because I knew he was with me in spirit. He died in 1996 at the age of 70,and that special time with him is still fresh in my memory.
Last August 6, 2008 my 85 year old mother died ..not from the breast cancer that was diagnosed the year before, but from other complications with her breathing, heart, lungs and kidneys. When I took her to the ER they kept her overnight and the heart specialist came in the next day. We had pretty much been told her kidneys were shutting down and they were at the point of asking us whether we wanted to go out with quality (and pain meds) or continue running tests and diagnostics when it just seemed nothing was going to help. The heart doctor wanted to show us how things weren’t working together for the good. As he was drawing a picture of the heart, Mom looked up and said…”Goodness gracious, what is that? ….Frosty the snowman?” All the tension that had built up in the room suddenly dissipated and EVERYONE laughed. Dad was a master at saying just the right thing …when things weren’t going well, that made me laugh.But again, the short time from Mom’s sudden downturn until she took her last breath (while my sister and I were massaging her arms with lotion), I felt honored to be able to work along side of her on this journey to be with the Lord.
Comment by Cindy Greene — August 20, 2009 @ 10:50 pm
I lost my dear Dad to cancer in May of 2008. Sometimes it’s tough to look back on those last few months that we had Dad here with us on earth as good times b/c they truly were some of the most trying days of my life. But, your post really hit home for me and reminded me to cherish the loving, tender moments that were weaved in throughout those minutes and hours we sat by his side; the smiles and pride on all of our faces that we shared even while tears streamed down our faces.
Rest assured, you aren’t forgetting to do anything- you’ve already given him the most precious gift of all- sharing your time, feelings and showing him how much you love him with your actions.
Please take a look at the blog post I wrote about my father a few years ago http://papercutstar.wordpress.com/2007/12/18/holiday-inspiration/.
I send this message with understanding, love and best wishes to your father and the rest of your family.
Comment by Star Borner — August 25, 2009 @ 6:29 pm