Not as funny as the title actually sounds. That is literally the worst call I've ever received in my life, May 27th, 2008. Before I tell you what the call was let me back track a bit.
Back in the fall of 2007, the beginning of my senior year in high school, my father was diagnosed with lung cancer. It was a heavy blow, I remember getting the news and just being completely dumbfounded. There was no way my dad could have cancer, no way he could be sick. He was my dad, he was invincible....wasn't he? He was going to be around forever, see me get married and all that jazz. Well at first it seemed like it was all going to be okay. The doctor told him it wasn't wide spread and that the chemo should take care of it...at least that's what i was told. And it looked like that was going to be true, he looked like he was taking chemo well and we all had high hopes.
Fast forward to Mother's day, May 2008, fishing opener.
We have this tradition, my family (my mom, step dad, siblings and a few friends) we go camping every year on a small lake North of Park Rapids. It was cold and rainy like usual, my siblings and I were sitting around the campfire BSing. i was reading a book, not really paying attention, when I heard the words "3 months". I looked up and asked what they were talking about, they looked at me like they were afraid to say anything. i asked again and they finally told me. "The doctors say dad has 3 months to live...". I wasn't ready for that, it felt like I had just taken a sledge hammer to the chest. I couldn't breathe, I walked off into the woods away from everyone, it hurt like hell to ave that news tossed at me like that.
Saturday May 24th, 2008. My grad party, the day before graduation.
I woke up Saturday morning to my mom telling me to get my butt out of bed, typical Saturday morning. What wasn't so typical was her telling me that I have to go over to my dad's house to get all the stuff for my grad party. Why did I have to do that? Wasn't he coming out here? Evidently my dad was too sick from the cancer and the chemo treatments, he couldn't get out of bed without help, so much as come to the party. So I drove out to his place to get all the supplies he had picked up. When I got there I was stunned, I felt like breaking down right there. My dad was hooked up to an oxygen tank, sitting in his chair with his head back, eyes half closed. He was bone thin, the chemo had kicked his ass bad. He could hardly move, and I don't honestly think he even saw me when we were talking. His fiance told me she would get him to the graduation ceremony the next morning. I hugged him and told him I loved him. I left for home, feeling numb the whole drive back.
Sunday May 25th, 2008. Graduation.
Sunday morning was hectic, my family was all there for graduation. I left early to get to the school and get set up. The ceremony rolls around...no dad. He couldn't make it, he was so sick he couldn't get up. I understood, I knew how bad things were. We went out to his house after graduation and saw him again, he looked even worse than the day before, I got a few pictures with him and told him I loved him again.
Monday May 26th, 2008.
A few friends and myself had some plans for Tuesday we were going to spend the day doing what we do best, Gameday. We planned to spend the day playing video games while everyone else was still in school. So Monday night we all headed over to his house with our stuff and crashed on the couch/floor for the night.
And that brings us to
Tuesday May 27th, 2008. 3 a.m.
I woke up to the sound of my friend's parents coming down the stairs. I knew it was late, and I knew she had a phone in her hand, I knew right away what was going on. "mom?" I already knew what she was going to say. Dad was dead, he had passed away about an hour before she called, his fiance had told my mom. And there I sat, on the couch in my friend's basement, crying harder than I thought I could, feeling empty. That night was the hardest night of my life, knowing there was nothing I could do, knowing I was never going to see my dad again. Knowing that in the morning my brother would be taking me out to the house to say goodbye. i don't know if I actually fell asleep again, or if I just sat there in the dark. All I remember is getting up in the morning, waiting for my brother. Watching them take my dad's body out of the house was like watching them tear away a piece of me.
Today marks three years since he passed away, and to this day I still miss him. I still wish that when something big happens in my life I could call him and tell him, hear his voice just one last time. I want to hug him and go skiing with him again. I know I'll never stop missing him, but the pain lessens and I remember good times with him. I know that he's not in pain anymore, for which I'm thankful. I would do anything to have him back in my life, but all I can do is remember him as he was.
For any of you out there who have lost someone close to you, I know it hurts and I know it's hard, but everything gets better in time. Grieve for them, but just remember to live for them and enjoy every second of life.
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