Met you for coffee today. It's been far too long since we last sat and talked like we used to. We used to do that a lot actually. You were the first person I ever had deep, theological discussions with. You've been one of the rocks in the foundation of my faith, leading me, guiding me, helping me throughout my entire life. You've been there since the very beginning.
Sure, relation-wise you're my grandfather...but family dynamic-wise? No...you've been my father.
Mom, Erika and I figured this out a couple summers ago. I'm not the oldest grandchild, I am the youngest sister. I'm the baby. You have raised me as your own child.
I think...no, I know...that's why you've always been so hard on me. You've been treating me the way you treated my mom and Erika when they were growing up. You even refer to my grandma as my mother and my mother and aunt as my sisters.
I used to get mad when you'd get on me about school work or some behavioral issue when I was growing up. Ask Mom, I'd complain to her all the time. But now I realize it was because you held me up to a different standard then you ever did for my little siblings. Because, to you, I am your daughter. If we ever brought this up to you, you would probably argue, saying that you know I'm your granddaughter and that's how you treat me but...that is an argument you would lose (which would be new for you *wink* you are so "right" all the time...my finace's like that too...you really do have a lot in common...oh dear...). Grandma, Mom, and Tante would all agree with me...and four against one doesn't look like very good odds...even if you are the great Bob Fay. No matter what you come up against, you always seem to win, don't you?
You've been battling leukemia for how long? How many times have you been through chemo? Yet you've still been playing golf, walking all 18 holes while carrying your own bag...you've been fishing for however long...at one point you were training to run marathons...after retiring at age 50, you created your own janitorial service so that I would have a job and you could teach me all I need to know...you turn 62 in June...
But you've finally come up against something you can't win, haven't you?
Those tumors...spouting mucus into your 'gut sac', as you called it...tiny cysts all over your abdomen...stage 4 cancer...
The doctors always said it wouldn't be the leukemia that killed you...
Instead, you have to wait...wait for these snot tumors to pour enough mucus in your system before your intestines will collapse and create a bowel obstruction...causing you great pain...while the mucus continues screwing everything inside up until...until you're gone...
Your doctor here gave you two choices: surgery or chemo. When you went to Houston to see MD Anderson, they told you the cancer had progressed too far for surgery to be effective. They also said that the chemo was dangerous...without it, you have less than a year. But with it, you could have two to three years...or it could kill you now.
You chose the chemo.
So far, so good.
The doctors are doing this as you feel you can handle it. When it becomes too much for you, they'll stop giving you the treatments.
I saw the tears in your eyes when you said you didn't know if you'd be around to see me walk down the aisle next summer...it took all the strength I had left to not start bawling outside of Starbucks right then and there. You promised you were going to try your hardest to be there; you said you didn't want to rain on my parade and ruin my special day.
I don't give a flying flip if you're there on my wedding day. I just want you to be here. Period. I've already pretty much lost my father because he's a jackass and he abandoned us (though he is making progress...he's trying to stay in contact better...but still). I just lost a major father-figure in my life in a motorcycle accident less than two months ago.
And now I have to figure out how to say goodbye to you...
At least you gave me a warning...I know it's coming...I just don't know how soon...
Oh, Abba...
On the way home from Starbucks, I had KLOVE blaring from my speakers as I sped down the highway with my windows down and tears streaming down my face...all those tears I held back at the coffee shop.
"Love Has Come" by Mark Schultz came on...I remembered hearing it before but it was the second verse that caught my attention:
For anybody who has ever lost a loved one
And you feel like you had to let go too soon
I know it hurts to say goodbye
But don't you know it's just a matter of time 'til the tears are gonna end
You'll see him once again and in that moment
Every knee shall bow, every tongue confess
That God is love and love has come for us all
Every heart set free, everyone will see
That God is love and love has come for us all
Now, I don't believe in coincidences. Coincidences are God's way of staying anonymous. And those words did give me some comfort...but I'm not ready say goodbye...not yet...not again.
I guess that's why, when the topic of kids' names came up the other day, I mentioned wanting my son to have the middle name of Robert. It was good enough for my great grandpa...who served in the Navy, was a semi-pro wrestler, and one of the sweetest men I have ever met in my life. It was good enough for my grandpa, my Poppie...who, while he's gruff and stern, is one of the greatest men I have ever known. He has been through so much yet his faith has never wavered. He's never given up on anything. He's diligent, respectful, honest, straightforward, brave, and brilliant...with a bit of orneriness thrown in there. He has high expectations but that doesn't mean he's not loving in his own fashion. I would be proud to have a son bear his name. I would tell him where he got the name, too. I would tell him all about his great grand-daddy that he'll never get to meet.
Oh, God...I hadn't thought about that yet...
Abba, why?
Why now? Why not years ago...or years in the future? WHY NOW????
Why are you taking everyone away from me?
Have I not lost enough?
I know you have this all planned out but God, I can't understand it at all. I still don't understand why you let my dad do what he did. So how am I supposed to understand this??
Abba...help me...
I can't say goodbye again...my heart can't take it.
No comments:
Post a Comment