It seems that every day I awake to news of someone passing. Of course death is part of life and no one gets out alive. But that intellectualization doesn't make things any easier.
Sometimes you don't see it coming, but other times you have warning, and time to prepare. I'm still not sure what exactly you do to prepare, but that's part of the journey.
My dad is 87 years old. About a month ago he was diagnosed with bladder cancer. He's actually been in not-great health for some time. He has had to self-cath since he was in his late 60's, and the last 5 years he's had a tough time with recurring infections, pain, etc. Part of it is age - it is cruel and unforgiving. And a harsh reminder of my own mortality (like I need those hints though...)
My dad is a member of the "greatest generation." Born in Detroit, he moved to San Diego in his early teens, and joined the Navy at age 16. He served as a corpsman in the Pacific, both on ship and during ground operations, attached to Marine units. Being tall and athletic, he was a "runner" - the guy who took the one-man stretcher out and brought guys back. He rarely talked about the war, in fact almost never saying a thing. About the only thing was that his tools were gauze and morphine. And being fleet of foot.
He came back when the war was over, turned down a re-enlistment offer to do further nuke testing, and came back to San Diego. He was offered a minor league baseball contract (pitcher) but injured his arm and decided instead to get married and settle down. He started at San Diego Gas and Electric as a meter reader, and then spent the next 40+ years working his way up to an exec. He never finished college - evidently he preferred playing pinocle to studying (so said my mom). He continued to play softball at AAA level, and also was a scratch golfer. By the time I came along he was in his mid 30's and had slowed a step but could still bring it. Oddly enough I ended up having my son arrive at the same age.
Fast forward to the late 90's. My mom started a long, slow descent from Parkinsons. My dad took care of her, mostly single-handed, for almost 10 years until she finally passed about 7 years ago. My dad ended up meeting someone 20 years his younger not too long after that, and they got married some years back. While I had my doubts, his new wife has taken great care of him and has been an advocate for him while dealing with Kaiser (and actually Kaiser has been pretty good). His health started failing a year or so ago, then the past few months he was having a very tough time with pain, infections, etc. They finally figured out the cancer but they still don't know full extent. I have assumed the worst but have tried to be supportive.
It is interesting to note the arc of my dad and his wife dealing with the decline. The desire to keep fighting is strong, but at some point I think a person just decides they've had enough. And in the end, nature wins as the body can only last so long.
My dad has been in and out of the hospital quite a few times of the past few months. Mostly due to dehydration from the various urinary and other infections. He's had tubes in him for well over a decade and that makes it hard to stay healthy. I've gone down to see him a few times in the past 6 months, and talk to him a couple of times a week. I noticed that his tenor changed in the last couple of weeks. I think he's getting near that "had enough" point.
I was supposed to take Calvin down to see him Saturday but he wasn't feeling up to a visit. He ended up back in the hospital Monday with another infection. My dad, who was 6'2" 175 most all his life, is now down to 131 pounds. The last time I was down and he was in the hospital we had to help him get dressed to go home. The three of us (his wife, myself, and my g/f who is another trooper of a woman) gently trying to get him changed and then up and around. You never expect to see your dad that way. At first it seems embarrassing - frail, naked, unable to accomplish the most basic tasks. But then you realize it is just autumn moving into the final winter.
I spoke with him today. At first he sounded more energetic on the phone (I'd called earlier and he wasn't up to talking). Then I started having trouble understanding what he was saying, then he forgot who he was talking to, asking about his old work friends.
He's still with us, but I know another corner has turned and time isn't on his side. It isn't on anyone's side. Hug your parents and kids and each other. We have a short spark of life - use it well.
