Remembering Dad on Father's Day

Good morning friends and loved ones. Happy Father's Day to the Dad's out there and especially to those men who although not biological fathers, serve as mentors and spiritual advisors to men like me.

My Father passed away around a year and a half ago and this is my second Father's Day without him. He was not my biological Father (I've never met my "biological benefactor.") but he adopted me and for all intents and purposes is the only Dad I'll ever need. We didn't always get along while I was growing up. I was extremely rebelious and when we argued I would sometimes remind him he wasn't my "real" Dad. I know this broke his heart every time I said it and to this day I cringe even remembering these moments. He didn't have much of an education and couldn't read and write very well but he worked his tail off to support his family. He didn't make a lot of money but he and my Mother managed to provide myself and my siblings with a fairly happy childhood.

When I was around 13 my Dad was diagnosed with a failing liver and hemochromatosis. The doctor's at the time predicted that he might live another 6 months. He eventually went on disability. I remember my Mother sitting all of us children down and explaining that Dad was sick and probably wouldn't be around long. He lived for another 19 years! It's obvious my Father was a fighter.

When I became an adult I know that I did a lot of things that disappointed my Dad. I moved around a lot and barely stayed in contact with my family. I lived pretty selfishly and did a lot of self destructive things. When my twins were born in 2004 my Dad and Mom came to Toledo to visit their first grandchildren. I know he loved my children and loved being a "Papaw." Shortly after this he was diagnosed with liver cancer yet again. At midnight on January 1st, 2006 he received a liver transplant at St. Louis University hospital. I remember visiting him then and seeing him with a tube down his throat on a ventilator was not fun. He came through that just fine. I got sober about 5 months later. That December he had a major stroke. He had quadruple bypass surgery several months after that. Over the next several months he had several other strokes of varying degrees of severity. Then the phone call came from my Mom that they had found cancer in Dad's lungs and it was bad.

I remember visiting in December of 2007 and accompanying my Dad to an appointment with his oncologist. The cancer Doctor said that Dad could undergo Chemotherapy and Radiation and might extend his life a few months. Without the treatment he was expected to live 4-10 months. It was a pretty emotinally heavy time. Dad ultimately opted to not have the treatment. He lived almost 2 more years.

The last 2 years my Dad was alive I had the opportunity to talk on the phone with him a lot and to visit him several times. In the later years of his life Dad had become quite the Cardinals fan. This was one very strong bond we both enjoyed. Over time his health slowly faded. He started with a nurse visiting him at home. The ordered him a hospital bed to have at home. He eventually had to walk with a walker. Finally he had to go to a nursing home. Amy and I visited him and my family in late September 2009. We had a great weekend. He got to meet Amy for the first time as we had only been dating a few months. He liked her, especially when he found out she wasn't a Cubs fan since she was from Chicago.

A month later when I made my nightly phone call to Dad on a Monday night he told me the nursing home had said he couldn't walk by himself anymore because of his risk of falling. He was depressed. My Dad loved to walk around the nursing home harrassing patients and staff alike, especially the few who were Cubs fans. After grumbling for a while he said "I don't know why I'm complaining. There are lot's of people worse off than I am." Typical Dad downplaying things.

The next night I got a phone call from my youngest sister that I might want to come home (to Mattoon, IL) soon since Dad wasn't doing well at all. I told her I would try to come that weekend to visit him. I called my other sister to talk to her about Dad's health. She said she had heard the same things I had and planned to be with him the next day. I talked to my Mom who said she wasn't going to leave the nursing home but was going to spend nights with Dad. I called my brother the nurse and he said I should get there as soon as possible, that Dad didn't have much longer. A thousand emotions erupted inside me that night and my friends in recovery all helped to prop me up. I quickly called my boss and informed him I was leaving the next day and didn't know when I'd be back at work. The next evening I took the Megabus to Chicago (ask me sometime about my God moment there) and early Thursday morning I boarded an Amtrak train to Mattoon.

The next 5 days were exhausting and grueling, yet the most memorable of my life. I spent each day at the nursing home with my family at my Dad's side. He was sometimes alert and able to communicate. Mostly he was comatose and resting. Those five days we all ate too much fast food, drank way to much caffeine and slept way too little. Amy, who had just lost her Mother a year earlier, was a godsend and I can't even begin to accurately state how much her support meant during this time. My good friend and mentor Steve Flowers drove down from Champaign to spend some time with us and eat dinner with us. Many friends texted and called each day and offered to drive from Toledo to be of support.

My Mother slept each night in a chair next to my Dad's bed. My siblings and I took turns staying the night with them to help care for my Mother as well. Two nights before he died it was my turn and it was a night I'll never forget. I sat on the side of my Dad's bed almost all night holding his hand. Every time I tried to let go he would wake up and say "Don't let go, Never let go." My back got stiff and my hand fell asleep many times but I held his hand until the sun came up. I'll never forget watching him rest and praying and struggling so much. I couldn't imagine life without my Father but I didn't want him to suffer any longer. A strong man who had fought through so much in life had stopped fighting and I watched him slowly slip away.

I've always considered myself to be a bit of a tough guy. I've never backed away from a physical altercation in my life. I've boxed and played football and survived back alleys and streets in neighborhoods most people fear to walk in. Yet there was absolutely nothing I could do to make my Dad get better. I was totally powerless watching him slip away. Those 5 days with my family at my Dad's bedside taught me how to turn things over to someone other than me.

My Dad died at 5:38 pm on Tuesday October 27. His wife and his four children were present. We began to cry and release some of our pent up emotions. We contacted the nurse at the home and she came to be with us. Approxiamately five minutes after he passed a cardinal bumped into the window of his room near his bed. We all began to laugh and to this day I thoroughly believe that cardinal was my Dad telling us it was going to be ok.

It's been over a year and half since my Dad died and I think of him almost every day. I think the saddest thing is the my twins will grow up not really knowing him. My daughter Abby was born this past January and she will never get to meet him. My Dad would have been so happy holding her, I know he would. He loved holding my twins and just being with his grandkids and his family. As I age and mature and still struggle to find my way in life I often wonder If what I'm doing would make my Dad proud. When I watch Cardinals baseball games I feel a twinge in my heart knowing he and I will never talk about another baseball game. When my son Spenser is playing baseball with his PeeWee team I realize my Dad will never sit on the sidelines and cheer for him. My daughter Mckenzie will never get a phone call from him congratulating her on her good grades in school.

Sometimes when Amy and Abby are long asleep and it's late in the night and I'm fighting insomnia I think about my Dad and cry. When I see pictures of him I remember those last few years that God gave to my family and all of those happy times filled with laughter. My Dad loved to laugh. It's during these late night emotional moments that I reaffirm the fact that my Dad really isn't gone. As long as I'm still breathing his spirit will live on. Happy Father's Day Dad. I love you.