First, allow me to apologize for the extended hiatus. It’s hard to be witty and funny when someone you love is going through a life-threatening illness. Last August, my Dad was diagnosed with lung cancer. He went into the hospital the day before my oldest daughter’s 2nd birthday. He fought the cancer and won! As of Thanksgiving, his cancer was declared “in remission,” and we all had something for which to be extremely thankful. Good spirits abounded, and I was well on my way back to bloggerdome. Astonishingly, a month and 4 days later, my Dad passed away from complications that his cancer treatment caused. I won’t go into much detail, as any of you who have watched someone pass away right in front of you know, it’s not a pretty sight or sound. In fact, I’ve neglected to dream since December 29th because I don’t want to hear or see those images again…ever.
The positive side is that we were all there to say goodbye to my dad. We each held his cold hand, told him we loved him, mom kissed him, and we waited until he took his last breath.
Having that image and those sounds seared into my brain for the past 3 months has made being funny, witty and even interested in sharing anything a daunting task. However, I’ve recently felt the urge to write again. I find it cathartic and that it gives me a voice when I so desperately need one but can’t find the words to say. Thank you for indulging me and letting me share my family’s tragedy with you. No one may ever read this, and that’s OK with me. I know someone in Heaven who is smiling down on me, knowing that I’m finally back to doing something I love, which must mean I’m somewhat back to my normal self. I sure am glad about that, because I’ve missed her.
If you are interested, below is what I wrote about my Dad. It was printed on the back of the program for his Memorial Service.
My Father, My Hero
Saying that I loved my Dad is an understatement. "Love" does not encapsulate just how much I adored, revered, and almost idolized him, and honestly, I still do and always will. He wore a cape under his suit and could leap tall buildings in a single bound as far as I was concerned. Where most children have heroes like Superman, Wonder Woman or a fireman, I had Daddy.
When my 4-year-old eyes saw him come home from work one day, I ran down our walkway and took a "leap of faith" (as Daddy referred to it) off the steps and into his already fully loaded arms. He somehow managed to catch me. When my tender teenaged heart would get broken by some boy and I thought my world would fall apart, my Dad managed to put it all back together every time and somehow made me a stronger person in the process. When I was old enough, I learned about and truly understood all the challenges Daddy faced in his life, some on a daily basis, and most no one should ever have to deal with at all. He overcame each and every challege that was thrown at him, confirming his heroic status in my eyes and showing our family that strength, love and faith can get you through anything.
Now, I am relying on that strength, love and faith to get me through the challenge of a life without my hero. Although it feels like my heart is broken and my world has been shaken to the core, I can eventually put it all back together and become stronger in the process. I also know that when God calls me and it's my time to take a "leap of faith" off this Earth and into Heaven, Daddy will be waiting there to catch me...and just maybe, along with those angel wings, he'll also be wearing his cape.
