My Beautiful Mess

I’ve been trying to tell a story - a story about my dad that began on October 29, 2008. I have found that harder to do than I anticipated. Remembering the details of those 3 weeks is something I am obviously not ready to do. Maybe, in time, I will go back and journal the specifics of some moments. But for now I will summarize, here in this post, about our loss. There are current day-to-day moments that are entrenched with emotions of loss and grief that I need to process on this blog. In order for those to make sense, I must tell you this part of the story….

Dad had surgery on November 5th, a surgery that was to take approximately 6 hours, if all went as planned. It didn’t go as planned. About  3 1/2 hours into the surgery, the surgeon found us all in the waiting room to tell us that Dad had stage IV pancreatic cancer - it had already spread to his liver and stomach. We were told there would be no recovery from this; treatment was not an option, and we were informed that Dad had 4-6 months to live.

Chemotherapy was discussed but only for what the medical world calls paliative care, that is to say that chemo might make his quality of life a little better and maybe a little longer. But the first priority was recovery from the surgery which left a 6-inch vertical incision down his gut.

Dad was in the hospital for a week, went home for not quite 2 days and was back in the hospital on November 13th, if I remember right. What I do remember right is that we received a call on Sunday November 16th that his kidneys were shutting down, and we drove back to Texas. We were not to have the 4-6 months the surgeon had spoke of. Dad died on November 19, 2008 at the age of 61.

I am thankful we were with him those final days. I am thankful he did not have to endure difficult treatment or months of pain. I am thankful that he is completely healed now and spending eternity with The Almighty. But I am sad. Very, very sad. He was a precious Daddy and Papa. I miss him terribly. I know that with time, it will not hurt so much. But I am also aware that life from now on will have a hole. I have many stories - because life with Dad was never dull! He was quite a character. You would’ve liked him…most folks did. And me, well, I loved him. And I still do.

I guess it is time to tell some more of Dad’s story…something about the fog and drizzle…and the fact that I am worn out….makes me feel sad today.

It was a weird feeling, waiting for his surgery. On one hand, you want time to hurry up so we can just get “this” over with. On the other hand, if the news is going to be bad, you want time to stop, or to even go backwards. Back to before things felt scary and uncertain. Back to Daddy being healthy.

I talked to Dad every day on the phone - but with Dad, it is hard for him to have emotional conversations. So we talked about other stuff - the kids, the weather, how he was feeling today, etc. He was the only one during this waiting period that did not get on the internet and google “pancreatic cancer.” I think even that would have been too much for him - it was almost too much for the rest of us. Because you read things like “This year, approximately 37,680 Americans will be diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Statistically, 75% of them (28,260 people) will die within a year of their diagnosis. Within five years, only 5% will still be alive – a mere 1,884 people – and most of these will have a recurrence and eventually succumb to the disease.” And then you try to go to sleep. Don’t do things like that, O.K.

I remember that I ran errands one day by myself over that weekend. As I was coming home, the song Something Heavenly, sung by Sanctus Real, played on the radio. I had already loved this song but, that day, I was overcome by The Spirit. I felt again, that God was saying, Hold on, sweetheart, this is going to be rough. Trust that I am at work, that I am truly up to something Heavenly. And that I love you.

By the time I entered the house, I was sobbing. My precious husband looked at me and asked What is wrong? I begged him to promise me that God was up to something Heavenly. Because this feels like total chaos. Promise me that this is something bigger than me. Because otherwise, this ain’t worth it.