In Memory of Daddy

October 1, 1946 - March 18, 1999

Memorial Weekend 1998 changed my life forever. We lived in Missouri, next door to my parents at that time. My dad had been having back problems and had been to a few doctor appointments to try to figure out what was wrong. He'd also had pneumonia during the winter before and doctors wanted to examine his lungs more closely. He put off the appointment until Memorial Day weekend so he could wait until my mom and little sister were out of school for the summer. (Mom works at a school). They made the appointment and left for a St. Louis verterans hospital over Memorial weekend. I was pretty clueless as to the tests that were being run. My mom called us at the end of the tests and my husband answered the phone. After their conversation he came over to me, held me, and told me my daddy had inoperable lung cancer and would probably only live another year. I can still feel the shock, disbelief, and devastation I felt upon hearing the word "cancer." I remember screaming "no!" and crying for what seemed an eternity. Mom later apologized for calling us all and telling us over the phone but said she just couldn't say the words in person and see us as we heard the diagnosis. I never faulted her for that. She was coping with the news herself and had 5 kids to tell, as well as my grandparents and all my aunts and uncles. I can't imagine how hard those phone calls were to make. My daughter was 6 years old at the time and I can remember telling her that her Papa was very sick. That year brought a lot of changes to our family. My dad was unable to return to his job as a truck driver so was able to stay home. My daughter got off the school bus each day and spent the evenings with my dad until I'd get off work. She was able to bond with him during that time in a way that otherwise wouldn't have happened. They played checkers, colored in books, watched movies and spent a lot of time together. She saw a side of my dad that I rarely did. For that I'm thankful.

It was a year of trips to St. Louis (4 hours away) for chemotherapy treatments that made him so sick. He was so scared he'd lose his hair. His hair was his pride! I always said he had "Elvis hair" and rarely saw him without it fixed. He did lose some but for the most part his hair always looked normal and he didn't go bald.

Most of us grew closer to Daddy and each other in those last months. He definitely grew closer to God. He did not attend church with us when we were children. After his diagnosis he attended church regularly and one night accepted the Lord as his Savior. We all had a greater sense of peace after that, knowing that if the cancer took him, his eternal home would be Heaven and we'd see him again one day.

Dad died March 18, 1999. A few days after his death my mom had a dream about him and in the dream he was talking to her. She woke from the dream and wrote down what he said. She then formed a poem from those words:

Don't Cry Now

I know you cried for me when I was ill.

You cried then and you cry still.

You cried when we heard the word "cancer."

You cried, and there was no answer.

You cried for me through all the tests.

You cried when we could get no rest.

You cried for me in all my pain.

When I was scared you cried again.

You cried for me when I could not walk.

You cried for me when I could not talk.

You cried when I was going away.

You cried but did not beg me to stay.

You cried for Jesus to help me through.

You cried for me, but not for you.

You asked Jesus to "Come, Take my Hand"

To help me to the "Promised Land."

So now my darling, hear my plea:

Please don't you cry again for me.

For now I am cancer free

Where, before it was not to be

For I am well and strong

And to Jesus I belong.

So dry your eyes, and wipe your tears.

Let me soothe all your fears.

Jesus and I are waiting for you

And Jesus and I will see you through.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil, for you are with me;

your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

Psalm 23:4