We grieved when he began having trouble with his shoulder. He had just retired and we felt that now he had a chance to enjoy a less complicated and stressful life. We had hope that with treatment his shoulder would get better.
We grieved when he learned his shoulder trouble was a symptom of cancer. We had to relinquish the illusion that he would live forever. We had hope that the disease might have been discovered early enough to be fought into remission.
We grieved when the chemotherapy and radiation treatment made him very ill. We had to realize our tall, strong father had become a frail old man. We had hope that the therapy was killing the cancer faster than it was killing our dad.
We grieved when the cancer had progressed so far that nothing more could be done. We had to admit that our father was not only mortal, but that he hadn't long to live. We had hope that he could be made as comfortable as possible until the end.
I grieved when the course of the disease began to erode my father's mind. I had to accept that this man who had taught me to approach problems logically, encouraged me to tackle ideas that seemed bigger than I was and win, was slipping into a reality the rest of us could not share with him. We had hope that he would have a few more lucid moments before he went.
I grieved when he could no longer breathe without someone (me) aspirating his lungs so he would not drown in his own bodily fluids. I had to learn to stick the aspiration tube up my father's nostril so it would thread its way down into his lungs and vacuum out excess fluid. I had hope that this could not last forever.
I grieved when his breathing became so labored that we had to take him to the hospice. We had to realize how exhausted we were and trust that the people who worked there could do what needed to be done.
My mother came into my room that morning at 4:00 a.m. She said "Your father died half an hour ago".
All I could think was "At last. It's finished."
Would I have wanted someone to "end it" at any stage before God and nature did? I don't think so. There was hope all along the way. The odds were not good, but my father considered the alternatives and decided to fight as long as he had hope.
We had good times even when the shadow of death was present in our midst. We all came closer to one another because of my father's failing health. I learned things about my father and my family that I had never known for 30 years. I learned things about myself that I would perhaps never otherwise discovered.
Pain and suffering are not the only products of hardship. Hope and faith and understanding may spring from your basic beliefs, but they are only demonstrated in adversity. It did not kill me. I am stronger.
I am for life because death eventually wins no matter what we do. The meaning of life rests in what we do before it does.
Life: Nobody said it wouldn't hurt. What do you want? A refund?
--Baloo
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post by ��Cody�� the Insane One :-)
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Down for Upgrade
--Baloo
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That's my story and I'm stickin' to it!