An emergency message
never good to get
call me, we need to talk
it’s not good
he fell a week ago
hasn’t gone to hospital
Scans, MRI, Biopsy
It’s been years since he’s been in.
Truth is he’s sick
he’s been sick for a while
He’s ignored it.
We have too.
It’s easier to ignore it than confront it sometimes.
This time it’s gone much further.
I’ve been trying to call him, to talk to him for months and months.
He’s been out of reach
out of reach.
Now it’s an emergency
masses in his body
around his lungs
around his heart
in his lymph nodes
in his brain
he has to be in pain
and this is what pains me the most
i also feel bad that we haven’t kept in contact
he isn’t much of a letter writer
and doesn’t really do the whole internet thing
and doesn’t seem to have a phone
so the only way I know would be to actually show up
on his doorstep
hoping that is still where he is.
Even if we haven’t talked since we told him that we were expecting a baby
about a year ago now
I still wouldn’t ever want anyone to be in pain
especially not those that I love
especially not my family and close friends.
My sister said he was all choked up when she came back into his hospital room after we hung up
I could hear the strain in his voice, he couldn’t even say I love you back
and it was killing him and I could hear it and I couldn’t do anything
I was bawling and I didn’t want him to know that either
this pains me too.
My father has always been a very strong man, stubbornly strong
and even now he is still that way.
There is a part of me that feels like I need to come to grips with the fact that my father will likely die, soon. The other part of me is asking should I still hold onto threads of hope that he will somehow make it through this? With hope that the doctors will be able to reduce and remove the masses in his brain without majorly affecting him, that he will then be able to continue living his life. That he would then go through Chemo or Radiation or both to eradicate the rest of the masses so he will then be able to continue living his life. This isn’t about me, but I feel like I need something to hold onto because all of it hurts, all of it.
I live on the other side of the world, a 17 hour flight minimum. Baby’s passport will take at least 15 working days from yesterday. Time is short. Every day, every minute counts. It’s so easy to take life and all of the chances. I’ve been living my life, married now and haven’t been back to visit my family once in five years. I did strangely say that I would either be back in one year or five years when I left the states, I just wasn’t expecting nor wanting this to be the reason why.
He is just 60 years old. He isn’t even at retirement age yet. Not that he has a typical job, he hasn’t since I was just a wee little one. Most others of his generation bought into the work all your life so you can take it easy when you retire at 65 and live your golden years relaxing. However, that is the time when the body slows down, the health issues start creeping in. My dad at least was determined to make his own rules and live life how he wanted to, on his own terms, not saving anything until retirement age, burning like a holy roman candle, a mad one he is.