Amy's Dad

One day in October 2003, I was at my parents visiting and doing some odd things for my mom around the house. I looked outside, and my parents were sitting in their van, talking. I looked out, and instantaneously knew something was wrong. This sick feeling came upon me, like a bolt of lightning. I had known my dad was going to the doctor that day, and we were waiting for test results about what it was that was obstructing my dad's esophagus. We were optimistic from the beginning, telling ourselves that it was nothing to worry about, though deep down inside I think we all knew the outcome. Sure enough, my father came in a few minutes later and sat down at the table and said "Amy, I have to talk to you about something." That was the first time I ever saw my dad cry. He did not have to say anymore. That October, my dad's journey with esophageal cancer started.

My dad was a quiet man. Had a hard life growing up. He was given up for adoption to his Grandmother. Graduated high school, and entered the Navy. In that time he met my mother. A beautiful girl, with a strict catholic upbringing. He was 20, she was 18 when they married. They were the happiest couple I have ever known. At the time of his diagnosis they were married for 34 years. They could not have children, and in turn they adopted my brother and I .

The 9 months that my father endured with this horrible cancer was the worst 9 months of any of our lives, but in that 9 months we had some laughs too. He decided to have the surgery, they ended up taking out 3/4 of his esophagus and 1/2 of his stomach. They said they have no idea how he swallowed anything up until this point. He did well with the recovery, the first few days were rough. He was in a lot of pain, but eventually got moved out of the ICU, and into a respite care room. In a few weeks he was due to start chemo therapy. We never went ahead with radiation, although to this day I still feel it is something we maybe should have looked into more. Regardless, we found an oncologist that was highly recommended and went full speed ahead. The chemo took a lot out of him, he lost all of his hair. My dad was a fairly big man, standing at 6'4 and 250 pounds. He lost a lot of the weight due to the surgery and also the chemo therapy. He had no appetite whatsoever. But we nagged him and he would eat. In and out of the hospital we went for 7 more months before it all ended. It was July 22nd of 2004, I had been with my dad the whole day and his respirations were around 44 a minute, and he was having trouble breathing. Yet, the whole time he was calm, quiet; like he knew that God was ready for him. I told my husband that night that I had to go down there, something did not feel right. I got down to my parents around 10 or so, my mom and dad were in bed. I told him that I loved him, and kissed him on his forehead. I was watching TV, when a little after 12, my mom came in and in a calm, but shocked voice, told me that he was not breathing. I went over, tried CPR , but he had already been gone. He ended up dying in his sleep of a heart attack. He was having trouble breathing due to the fact that he was filling up with fluid. His heart just could not take anymore. He went exactly the way that he wanted to. Not in a hospital, next to his wife who loved him so much. In the weeks before he had slowly said his good byes in one way or another. He said that he was happy with his life, and had no regrets. What else more could you ask for?

I still ask myself a lot of questions to this day, wondering why my dad got this horrible disease. I mean he never smoked a day in his life? How could this be possible? I was mad at God for a while. There was so many things I wanted to do with my dad yet, I was hoping to have more children, travel, go to more ball games, watch him get old, retire and enjoy his life. After a lot of thinking I realized that you do not have to be on this earth for 99 years to live your life to the fullest. You live your life every day by waking up and enjoying each day that God decides to give us. There is no time table, no map saying how long your life is going to be, but my dad in his 55 years accomplished what some people never do. He had a wife, children and grandchildren that loved him. People that would do anything for him, and he in turn would have done anything for us. That to me is life. Enjoying each day as if it were your last, and up until July 23rd of 2004, my dad did just that. And for that dad, I thank you.

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