I Call Him Dad.

How's everyone in blogger world today? Be motivated! We are on the downhill slide towards the weekend. Hell when I was in college Thursday was the weekend. Sometimes Monday got grandfathered in as well depending on how crazy Saturday was. Trust me if you have never been so drunk on Saturday night that your not still hurting on Monday morning then you haven't lived. Well haven't lived my life at least which isn't necessarily a bad thing.

Enough about that craziness. It's Hero Thursday. It is the day of the week I have chosen to write about those that I have admired and those that have had an impact on my life. Today's subject might be one of the more difficult ones that I ever write about. It took most of my life for me to realize the man my Father was and why he should be so admired.

My Dad, Orville, died October 27, 2009. It has been a little over 4 months ago now and time has healed a lot of the sadness that comes along with losing a loved one. I still think of him often and have moments of an emotional nature from time to time. I still talk to him once in a while actually. At this point he hasn't replied back audibly but I know he's listening.

My Dad and I didn't always get along while I was growing up. I know it is difficult to believe but I tend to be a bit rebellious and defiant even at times today. Trust me friends when I say this defiance was much worse in my adolescent and teenage years. I more or less tended to disagree with everyone and everything and was hell bent to forge my own way in life. I remember my Father being reduced to tears many times in my teenage years, totally at a loss at how to handle dealing with me. I'm sure he spent many many moments worrying about my path in life and praying for me. Oh yes dear readers I can assure you that my Dad prayed for me. You see he just so happened to be one of the most spiritually connected people I have ever known.

As I became an adult and embarked upon my own, forging my own unique path, the relationship I had with my Dad became nonexistent. As I drifted farther along and farther away from the way I was raised I would often go months without speaking with my parents. My parents obviously did not approve of my lifestyle and I didn't see any reason to allow them a chance to remind me they didn't approve. Somewhere in the midst of my rambling life I became a father of twins. Suddenly I was a Father myself and this brought along a whole different attitude and way of thinking. It took a while but eventually I began to realize the value of the way my Father lived. I began to respect him for the man he was, to admire him for his work ethic and to appreciate his simple wisdom.

My Dad went through so many different health issues it started to become a bit absurd. I would often wonder if there were a God, why would he allow someone so devoutly faithful as my Father was, to go through so much pain and suffering in life. Just so the record is straight gentle readers, these were my thoughts, never my Father's. I never once heard him complain or state anything other than the fact that he always felt like he was so blessed. In the end I came to admire him for the fact that even on his death bed he never once complained of anything except being tired. My Dad suffered from liver difficulties that were passed on to him genetically. He was a diabetic, had open heart surgery, suffered from several strokes, had a liver transplant and ultimately was diagnosed with cancer more than once. The big C was the one that eventually got him. I'm finding myself working through some moist eyes as I write this, just fondly remembering the man who came to mean so much to me.

When I was 13 my Mother called the family together and announced that the doctors had given my Dad six months to live. Nearly 16 years later he was told that he again had cancer and that it was inoperable, terminal. They gave him 4-10 months to live. Once again he defied medical odds and lived almost two more years. Over the last year of his life I spoke to my Father nearly every evening on the phone. He had gotten to the point physically where he had to move to a nursing home, as he began to fall often and my Mother wasn't able to fully provide the 24 hour care he needed. My Dad absolutely loved that nursing home and all of it's staff. My Father had grown to be a loyal St. Louis Cardinals fan in his latter years and this was one of the strongest bonds we shared. We would talk about the Cardinals, my children, my Mother (whom he loved faithfully, loyally and unconditionally) and he always managed to ask about the weather.

I gained many wonderful memories with my Dad those last couple of years. I remember at one point I had been offered a potentially lucrative automobile sales job. They wanted me to attend their two week sales training course and that interfered with my plans to spend two weeks with my Dad. I gratefully declined much to the surprise of the interviewer. He was shocked that I would so casually decline an opportunity to take a career with an earnings potential of $70,000 plus annually. I have never once regretted this decision. I was honored to spend the last week of my Dad's life at his bedside with my family. I had the opportunity of holding his hand those last days. I remember a phone conversation we had a little more than a week before he passed and about two days before I journeyed to Central Illinois to be with him. His memory was fading and he rambled incoherently at times. He talked about the pain he was in and just how tired he was of being sick. At the end of our conversation he said "oh well. I won't complain. There are people worse off than I am." I will never cease to be amazed about his ability to think of others even as he was dieing.

He was quite the amazing man my friends. He reminded me many times that no matter how many times I failed in life or took paths he advised against that I was his son and that he would always love me. It took me most of my adult life to realize all of these things about him. When I think of the word hero, my Dad is the first person who comes to mind. Here's to hoping that when my life ends and all of my accomplishments are recorded, that I wind up being half the man he was.

*Authors note* Due to computer difficulties this blog has been posted later than it was started. Those computer difficulties appear to be mended, at least for the time being.