After Vickie interviewed for a job at Hopkins on December 29, we got the call from Dad. The one that said we'd better come home as quickly as possible because he was not going to get better this time. (Vickie got the job! She starts in March.)
Since the 31st, we've been in West Linn caring for Dad as his health rapidly deteriorated. I feel so fortunate to have been here for his final days, and my heart swelled with pride and awe as I watched Vickie take care of him. Dad maintained his strength long enough to see all of his visitors, including all of his family members and his closest lifelong friends. He kept us laughing all the way through.
And then he was gone.
It's hard to avoid becoming choked with grief when I think about all of the things he won't be here to see and all the things I won't be able to share with him. So today, at least for a while, I wanted to focus on the things I have gotten to share with him since he was first diagnosed with cancer five years ago. Dad packed a lot of living into these past few years.
I don't know how long it will be until I feel like writing again. When I returned to blogging in early 2009, it was to share my half marathon training updates with my dad. He's been the blog's most devoted reader. In the meantime, though, if you'd like to honor my dad, you could do one of the following:
Pour yourself a good glass of wine.
Call your parents to tell them you love them, share a few laughs, and ask if they've had a colonoscopy recently.
Play catch with a little kid.
Put on some Jimmy Buffett music.
Play a round of golf.
Get out your calendar and plan your next trip.
("i carry your heart with me" is a poem by ee cummings. Its opening and closing line have been on repeat in my head since we lost Dad. i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart). )
