Well I guess it has been such a long time since I have last written a blog, but I figure it is time to write again since I am back on the RACE. I guess this blog is about my time home from the Race, to get a better understanding, this will be a few blogs because everything that happened can not be summed up in a few words
When I left for the Race I was confused, and angry not sure what to expect or understand. I mean what can one really understand their parent going through cancer. And it was super hard to lose my father especially as quickly as it did. But I guess here is the story of what the last 2 months looked like.
When I left the Race it was one of the hardest things to do not because of leaving the Race, but because I was leaving the Race to go to my dad passing away. That 36 hour flight was the longest thing I ever went through. I did not say good bye to a lot of my squad, but I was going to home to be with my dad for his last goodbyes. I wasn’t just losing a movie buddy and a dad, I was losing one of my best friends.
So again after such a long day and a half of travel I finally made it to Sandwich, IL. To see my dad sitting in his Papa Bear Chair jumping out of it because he was so excited to see me. We embraced in a hug, the best hug I have ever received from my dad. I still couldn’t believe it I was home from the Race and my dad was infront of me… walking, talking, and able to love on me. We spend the time talking and I went to bed so early… but I also woke up early the next day.
During my time at home, I was able to wake up to my dad to him sitting in the living room, and I would cuddle on the couch next to him, and we would watch is the price is right, and would talk about what movies we would need to see in the theaters… things were back to normal… I guess.
Which made me wonder… have I changed? Have I grown at all?
How can I process the Race, when I just got home? How can I tell so many people about all that I went through in a minute? And even the frustration would kick in…
“How was the Race.”
“Great! I learned so much!”
“That’s good to hear!”
…..is that really what all people would expect. I was so thankful to those friends who saught me out and actually asked me “how was it?” And waited with me as I processed through what exactly I was going through because even I couldn’t explain how things began to happen sometimes. But they were with me as I was trying to even figure out myself…
I didn’t understand still what I was going through because I felt as if I was stuck. I could not think about the Race which is what I just gone through and I couldn’t move forward because I was afriad that I was going to miss something or I was going to do something wrong.
But I enjoyed the moments I had with him. Full of laughter and joy and him just telling me how proud he was of me. Every night I would tuck my dad into bed because his legs were to sore for him to throw them up himself, and every night I would kiss him and we would say our “I love you’s.” And I would leave his bedroom so thankful to have one more night.
We had an amazing time that week I came home because my dad side of the family came by and it was amazing. My dad felt so much love from his friends and family, and we watched three stooges and enjoyed Mel Brooks movies like we have always enjoyed while eating chili dogs…it was beautiful until the week of hell came…
This week of hell words can not express because no one can really express what that week is like. But I remember coming home one day like a normal day coming home from break, and I went to my dad and he was barely waking up…I would shake him gently and he would open his eyes and there was this glaze look and such a tired look. He would smile gently at me and then go back to sleep. That day was rough because the whole day he was like that, and at night time I just remember Greg and I just surrounding my dad laying with him and crying because our best friend is dying. Which would make any daughter just panic….
“God what’s going on? He’s dying…he is hurting…please God. Heal him and take away the pain. But please one more time…just one more I love, just one more…”
The next day he was awake and he was hungry. I thought it was maybe just mom or greg maybe ave him too much meds. My dad and I hung out and I remember him grabbing us and just holding us. He told me that I am his baby girl. That he was proud of me, and that I meant so to him, and that he was sorry that he won’t be walking me down the isle, and he was telling me that I am going to be such a beautiful bride…this was the last day we had a conversation.
After that it was him just laying there and my brother and I trying our best with the help of hospice to take care of him. But he was declining and he was declining fast. I would ask him if he needed anything and the only response I would get is a moan or gurgle, but that is it. Except that Thursday when I was with him I begged him as I sat by him on his bed side that just one more time can I hear “I love you!” Just one more time, and though he did not audible say it, I know without a shadow of a doubt that he was trying to tell me he loved me….
I kissed him, and would lay at his bed side and pray over him, read psamls, book of John, and Jesus Calling not just for him, but to help me to have peace as well.
My dad passed away early Friday and I still can not believe he is gone. I really want nothing more than to have him here knowing that I can call him and here his voice but the truth is I can’t and it hurts like hell. Even when I received the I love you, it still did not feel like enough…. you still just wanted one more time.
Next blog would be more of the spiritual journey I went through during my time back at home. Thank you for your prayers and support!
