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In the News
Remembering: February 13th, 2009
Saturday, February 13, 2010
This was Friday the 13th, and we were to have no good news this day. In fact, Dad was told what I had known for weeks. There would be no more chemo, nor lab tests, or doctor appointments. Hospice was coming the next day to discuss his future care and comfort. I didn't know Dad had just been told this when I answered the phone with a joke. I immediately regretted it, his tone was serious and stern. He explained that I needed to get up early and be at his house when the nurse came. There were important things to discuss, arrangements to be made. What he didn't say, was that there were goodbyes to be uttered as well. Final apologies for a life that would soon come to an end. He didn't say it, but I could hear it in his voice. The next day, I would see it in his eyes... I remember listening to Devotchka's How It Ends over and over again that night when I couldn't sleep. I was forcing myself to prepare for what was coming. Bracing myself for the predicted unpredictable. I had lost people before Dad, but never had death been so close to me. I have included a drawing he made that day, no doubt it was therapy for him. He drew where the cancer was, he listed his meds, and subtly laid out how his body betrayed him. He had fought so hard for so long, and he wanted that struggle to be acknowledged. Everyone knows someone that has had cancer, but only those that have battled it themselves trully understand the struggle. When I look at this now, I wonder how he felt once he finished it. He would use it to explain to people his prognosis. And after he passed, I would show it to his family hoping to help them find comfort.
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