Tomorrow marks eight years since my dad passed away. Eight years since Cancer took him from me. Ive recited the story a thousand times. . all of the facts, none of the emotion.
But I will never get over losing my poppa. . .
I can remember the day my dad told me he had cancer
just as if I'm sitting in the room watching it all unfold. A girlfriend
and I drove the four hour trek from Kutztown, where I was in my first
year of college, to surprise my dad and my friend. My dad had been going
to the Doctor more and more in the months I was away at school, so
looking back maybe I knew i needed to go home and spend some time with
him.
It
was a Friday evening in October. The leaves were still falling to the
ground and it looked like it could rain at any moment. A friend and I
were getting ready to go to a high school football game and then
out with a few friends for an early Halloween party. My dad yelled from
the living room
"Lulabug, can you come here. Daddy needs to talk to
you."
My heart was instantly in my throat. I couldn't breathe. I knew something was wrong.
There,
in the living room I had grown up in, I crawled into my dad's lap as I
always had and heard the words come from him mouth in slow motion: "I have cancer. . . "
I
was strong. . I didn't cry. . I just sat there replaying the words over
and over for what seemed like a lifetime. I didn't want to move. I
didn't want to get off his lap. I wanted that moment to last until
I woke up from this instant nightmare. . I told my dad I wasn't going
back to Kutztown, it was too far and I wanted to be home. He told me I
would stay at Kutztown and kick it's ass and he would kick cancer's ass.
I wish it would have been that easy.
I
went back to school on that Sunday. The entire ride my heart hurt, but I
knew my dad was the strongest man alive. If anyone could beat esophageal
cancer he would and all with a smile and that little chuckle in his
voice. . I wanted it to all be okay. I wasn't ready to lose my best
friend. He always promised me he'd live to be a hundred (yes, i know
TOTALLY unrealistic. . but he was only 44 when he was diagnosed, I at
least wasn't expecting him to be gone that young).
My
dad had many other appointments in the month and a half I was away at
school. He drove down and picked me up on my last day of the semester.
My class started at 8am. I called him right before and he told me he
wouldn't be there until almost 11 because he got caught in traffic. I
went into my hour class and when I was done I walked back to my dorm. As
I was walking back I rounded the corner of the dorm building next to
mine and there he was, with that huge smile on his face and the green
shirt I bought him for father's day that year that read "I am not a
model, I just look like one." I ran to him and he picked me up off the
ground and hugged me tighter than ever before. My dad surprised me and
showed up early. He had done this every time he came to pick me up, but I
never expected it. This time I was so happy to see my poppa. We sang
"changes" by Kelly and Ozzy Osbourne and danced to "smack that" the
whole way home. It was one of the best car rides of my life and one of our last.
The
next day we got up early to head to to UPMC St. Margaret in Pittsburgh.
That day my dad would have surgery to remove seventy percent of his
esophagus and as the doctor told him he would then be Cancer free. .
they didn't catch his cancer until stage IV so this wasn't realistic but we believed the doctors. He only had the size of a
straw to swallow through, and had rapidly lost weight.
He
went into surgery and was suppose to come home the next day. Surgery
went okay, but when it was time to wake him and remove the tube from his
throat he was groggy, disoriented and confused so they would give him
more medicine to knock him out, day after day. On day five the Doctor
told my mother and I that the only way they could have this much trouble
bringing him out of sedation is if he was a drug addict. .my father was
NOT a drug addict in the least. Day ten the Doctor told us we may have
to make the decision to take my father off of the machines and hope he
was able to breathe on his own. Thankfully, by the grace of god my dad
was able to have the tube out that day and was breathing on his own.
Walking into the room that day and seeing my poppa, a shell of who he was, hunched over in a chair yelling for me was enough to break my heart into a million pieces. But in my mind i thought 'he's still here, he's going to beat this.' My dad finally built up enough strengh to come home from the hospital just days after Decemeber 29th, 2007 (his 45th birthday).
Once he was home i returned to Kutztown to begin my second semester and work towards my dreams to make my father proud. He was at home slowly regaining strength. After awhile he was able to drive himself to my Grams, Uncles, etc. He would go play pool with my uncle and go have coffee with gram. He was working towards getting back to the man I always knew. On January 29th, 2008 he went to a check up in Pittsburgh and was told they removed all of the tumor and that he would need radiation and chemo just to be safe. My dad was really going to beat this. He had too much to live for and his life was barely beginning.
Then everything changed. I called him after classes one afternoon and my mom answered the phone. She said my dad was in the E.R. having a few tests done because he had what he thought was a migraine and seemed to be losing his peripheral vision. My heart dropped. He promised to call me when everything was done. So i waited and waited. My room mate bought me a bag of purple skittles, a bag of kettle corn popcorn, and a bottle of Mt. Dew, all of my favorite things to try to cheer me up. We sat in her bed for what seemed like an eternity while i cried. I felt helpless. I prayed that it was just a migraine and all would be okay. My phone rang. .
My dad didn't sound like he normally did. He sounded distant and scared. A sound I had only ever heard in his voice when I was extremely ill and in the hospital. Then he told me. "They found a golf ball mass of cancer in my brain. " (which we later learned had been there this entire time and the Doctor in Pittsburgh decided not to tell my dad or us.) I held back tears. He told me that they were still going to send him for radiation and more aggressive chemotherapy but not to worry, he would beat this. I cried myself to sleep that night. . I may not have had much medical knowledge but I knew when cancer was in the brain it was serious and very hard to come back from. I continued to go through the motions for the next few weeks. I talked to my dad daily, as I always had, but it was different. I could hear him weakening through the phone. Calls become shorter and shorter and my mom would answer his phone and tell me he was sleeping more and more. My dad's body was tired, he was tired.
When I had returned to school in January we knew I would not be able to come home until March ( I was a freshman without a car) so we had planned a weekend for my mom and dad to come down. The weekend of Valentines day. We had a hotel booked in Bethlehem and we would spend the weekend together. My mom called that Friday to tell me they were on there way and she was driving, 'This is bad' I thought 'she never drives outside of home.'
When they arrived at my dorm she called and told me to meet them outback that my dad couldn't come in. As I walked towards our truck I saw the man who meant the world to me hunched over, barely able to keep his head up to tell me hello. My mom got out and I jumped into the driver seat since she was uncomfortable driving in the city. As soon as I got into the truck I knew my life was never going to be the same. My dad was never going to be the same person.
As we began to drive towards the next town, where our hotel was, he reach out and took my hand. It feel like the hand of a frail old man. 'This isn't right, My dad is not frail, not old, not weak. . my dad has taken on the world, he is stronger than an army, my dad is only forty five. I'm only eighteen. We have too many plans together. . This isn't happening.' All of these thoughts were racing through my mind. A tear begin to slide down my left cheek. I brushed it off before he could see. I had to be strong for him because he couldn't be in that moment.
We stopped at a diner on the way. My dad wanted to stay in the truck and take a nap. My mom and I went in and sat down. We ordered a few little items, although i was sick to my stomach and food wasn't on my mind. I took my dad fries out and when i returned to the booth in the diner i heard my mom say the words I wasn't ready to hear.
Walking into the room that day and seeing my poppa, a shell of who he was, hunched over in a chair yelling for me was enough to break my heart into a million pieces. But in my mind i thought 'he's still here, he's going to beat this.' My dad finally built up enough strengh to come home from the hospital just days after Decemeber 29th, 2007 (his 45th birthday).
Once he was home i returned to Kutztown to begin my second semester and work towards my dreams to make my father proud. He was at home slowly regaining strength. After awhile he was able to drive himself to my Grams, Uncles, etc. He would go play pool with my uncle and go have coffee with gram. He was working towards getting back to the man I always knew. On January 29th, 2008 he went to a check up in Pittsburgh and was told they removed all of the tumor and that he would need radiation and chemo just to be safe. My dad was really going to beat this. He had too much to live for and his life was barely beginning.
Then everything changed. I called him after classes one afternoon and my mom answered the phone. She said my dad was in the E.R. having a few tests done because he had what he thought was a migraine and seemed to be losing his peripheral vision. My heart dropped. He promised to call me when everything was done. So i waited and waited. My room mate bought me a bag of purple skittles, a bag of kettle corn popcorn, and a bottle of Mt. Dew, all of my favorite things to try to cheer me up. We sat in her bed for what seemed like an eternity while i cried. I felt helpless. I prayed that it was just a migraine and all would be okay. My phone rang. .
My dad didn't sound like he normally did. He sounded distant and scared. A sound I had only ever heard in his voice when I was extremely ill and in the hospital. Then he told me. "They found a golf ball mass of cancer in my brain. " (which we later learned had been there this entire time and the Doctor in Pittsburgh decided not to tell my dad or us.) I held back tears. He told me that they were still going to send him for radiation and more aggressive chemotherapy but not to worry, he would beat this. I cried myself to sleep that night. . I may not have had much medical knowledge but I knew when cancer was in the brain it was serious and very hard to come back from. I continued to go through the motions for the next few weeks. I talked to my dad daily, as I always had, but it was different. I could hear him weakening through the phone. Calls become shorter and shorter and my mom would answer his phone and tell me he was sleeping more and more. My dad's body was tired, he was tired.
When I had returned to school in January we knew I would not be able to come home until March ( I was a freshman without a car) so we had planned a weekend for my mom and dad to come down. The weekend of Valentines day. We had a hotel booked in Bethlehem and we would spend the weekend together. My mom called that Friday to tell me they were on there way and she was driving, 'This is bad' I thought 'she never drives outside of home.'
When they arrived at my dorm she called and told me to meet them outback that my dad couldn't come in. As I walked towards our truck I saw the man who meant the world to me hunched over, barely able to keep his head up to tell me hello. My mom got out and I jumped into the driver seat since she was uncomfortable driving in the city. As soon as I got into the truck I knew my life was never going to be the same. My dad was never going to be the same person.
As we began to drive towards the next town, where our hotel was, he reach out and took my hand. It feel like the hand of a frail old man. 'This isn't right, My dad is not frail, not old, not weak. . my dad has taken on the world, he is stronger than an army, my dad is only forty five. I'm only eighteen. We have too many plans together. . This isn't happening.' All of these thoughts were racing through my mind. A tear begin to slide down my left cheek. I brushed it off before he could see. I had to be strong for him because he couldn't be in that moment.
We stopped at a diner on the way. My dad wanted to stay in the truck and take a nap. My mom and I went in and sat down. We ordered a few little items, although i was sick to my stomach and food wasn't on my mind. I took my dad fries out and when i returned to the booth in the diner i heard my mom say the words I wasn't ready to hear.
"it's terminal."
As fast as she said it my entire world came crashing down. He wasn't going to beat this. He wasn't going to be there for all of our plans. Cancer would take my dad too young, too soon.
We got back into the truck after picking at the food we had ordered and in silence, holding my poppa's hand we drove to the hotel. When we got into our room my dad laid down on the bed and I curled up beside him as I had done so many times before. I lay my head on his chest and listened to his heart beat. I never wanted to forget how it sounded. As i lay their I handed him a box with a ring in it. I was saving it for father's day that year, but now it was clear, He wouldn't be here for another father's day. He opened the box and began to cry. It was a ring that said dad with two diamonds on it. As we lay in that bed with tears streaming down our cheeks we talked.
"I'm sorry, Lulabug. I'm tired. My bodies tired. I just can't fight anymore. I'm so sorry." he said.
"it's okay poppa, it's not over. . there are other treatments and things we can try, right?" i asked.
He began to cry harder that I had ever witnessed. He slid his wedding band off and tried to hand it to me. He wanted me to have it. In that moment I told him to keep it. It wasn't time for him to give up yet.
I laid on his chest for hours. He held onto me tighter than I ever remember.
As I was dozing in and out I heard him say "I'm so sorry, Lulabug. I promised you I'd live to be one hundred and I didn't even make it half way. Please never forget how special you are. You saved my life. You are my life."
I opened my eyes and leaned up and kissed my poppa on the cheek. He knew I heard him and I knew how much he loved me.
I went back to Kutztown that Monday and gather up everything I needed right away. I went to the office and filed the paperwork to take a leave from school and we came home. . The next two weeks were hard and a blur. I spent much of my time sitting beside my dad's hospital bed in our living room. We would listen to music or turn on the waltons at first. And slowly he began to sleep more and more. Friends and family came to visit and many times he was just too weak and tired to hold on a conversation.
February 29th, 2008. Leap Day.
At six am my dad yelled for me. I came out to the living room where he was lying in his hospital bed with two new tumors protruding on each side of his neck. My mom went downstairs to talk to the hospice nurse who had just given my dad morphine to try to comfort him. I held onto his hand as his struggled for each breath. He took off his wedding band and handed it to me. I knew this was it. His fight was over. My world was never going to be complete again. The largest piece of my heart was dying. I told him I loved him through the choked back tears. He looked away. His last words were "help me." and there was nothing i could do. . he was gone.
I was numb. I was lost. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months and months into years. Eight years later I still feel lost. A piece of me was taken with him. A piece of my heart, my life, my happiness, my soul. My Poppa.
My life changed forever that day. The best father I could have asked for was taken at the young age of forty five. . and I still don't know how to live without him. . .
Xoxo,
Lulabug
As fast as she said it my entire world came crashing down. He wasn't going to beat this. He wasn't going to be there for all of our plans. Cancer would take my dad too young, too soon.
We got back into the truck after picking at the food we had ordered and in silence, holding my poppa's hand we drove to the hotel. When we got into our room my dad laid down on the bed and I curled up beside him as I had done so many times before. I lay my head on his chest and listened to his heart beat. I never wanted to forget how it sounded. As i lay their I handed him a box with a ring in it. I was saving it for father's day that year, but now it was clear, He wouldn't be here for another father's day. He opened the box and began to cry. It was a ring that said dad with two diamonds on it. As we lay in that bed with tears streaming down our cheeks we talked.
"I'm sorry, Lulabug. I'm tired. My bodies tired. I just can't fight anymore. I'm so sorry." he said.
"it's okay poppa, it's not over. . there are other treatments and things we can try, right?" i asked.
He began to cry harder that I had ever witnessed. He slid his wedding band off and tried to hand it to me. He wanted me to have it. In that moment I told him to keep it. It wasn't time for him to give up yet.
I laid on his chest for hours. He held onto me tighter than I ever remember.
As I was dozing in and out I heard him say "I'm so sorry, Lulabug. I promised you I'd live to be one hundred and I didn't even make it half way. Please never forget how special you are. You saved my life. You are my life."
I opened my eyes and leaned up and kissed my poppa on the cheek. He knew I heard him and I knew how much he loved me.
I went back to Kutztown that Monday and gather up everything I needed right away. I went to the office and filed the paperwork to take a leave from school and we came home. . The next two weeks were hard and a blur. I spent much of my time sitting beside my dad's hospital bed in our living room. We would listen to music or turn on the waltons at first. And slowly he began to sleep more and more. Friends and family came to visit and many times he was just too weak and tired to hold on a conversation.
February 29th, 2008. Leap Day.
At six am my dad yelled for me. I came out to the living room where he was lying in his hospital bed with two new tumors protruding on each side of his neck. My mom went downstairs to talk to the hospice nurse who had just given my dad morphine to try to comfort him. I held onto his hand as his struggled for each breath. He took off his wedding band and handed it to me. I knew this was it. His fight was over. My world was never going to be complete again. The largest piece of my heart was dying. I told him I loved him through the choked back tears. He looked away. His last words were "help me." and there was nothing i could do. . he was gone.
I was numb. I was lost. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months and months into years. Eight years later I still feel lost. A piece of me was taken with him. A piece of my heart, my life, my happiness, my soul. My Poppa.
My life changed forever that day. The best father I could have asked for was taken at the young age of forty five. . and I still don't know how to live without him. . .
12/29/62 - 02/29/08
Xoxo,
Lulabug
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