Sunday April 3rd started off awesome. The guys and I headed to Lake Cushman for a gorgeous hike. We spent the day in forest and had a great time. On the way out of town we decided to stop for a late lunch. My cell phone finally had reception again and I had a voicemail from my Uncle D come in. He told me to call him back asap and that my Dad was in the hospital. I called him and was told my Dad had gone in because he'd fallen like 6 times over just that weekend. He hurt his leg. During the course of the day and many test later, they found out one of his lungs had a giant mass covering it. I knew it was cancer before we found out for sure. Fast forward to that Thursday after lots of tears and worry over his health....we got the Stage 4 lung cancer diagnosis. It had spread to his liver AND spine. I had just booked my flight to come home that next day and surprise my Dad. The doctor gave him 3-5 months of life left.
I flew home that Friday and spent the next almost two weeks in MS. I won't go into all the drama and details over the crap we dealt with trying to get my Dad into a place where he'd be taken well care of because I just can't rehash that part right now. By the time my Dad was discharged from the hospital (that next Tuesday) the discharging doctor gave him 2-3 months of life left. Dad declined so fast...I watched it happen every single day I was there. It's a terrible thing when a man is laughing one second and sobbing in pain the next. The place they sent him to was AWFUL. Nursing homes are not the place for a man to die with dignity!
I came home for a week, got my kiddo and headed back down there. I needed my Dad to see my son and vice versa. We tried to have a little fun while we were there. My son ate beignets for the first time. We walked on the beach. We got gangster on desserts at a casino buffet and he got to have a little conversation with my Dad while he was still "with it" enough to chat.
I could not believe how much more Pop had gone down hill when I walked into his room at the nursing home after being gone for just a week. I managed to get him moved to a real in patient hospice facility that Monday. I was SO thankful we got him in there. Those people were amazing and my Dad was FINALLY being taken care of. His decline continued. He lost the ability to converse, he was fully bedbound and unable to attend to even his most basic of needs, he stopped eating, stopped drinking. My formerly large Dad shrank and shrank until his arms were the size of mine...I knew we didn't have a lot of time left. I wanted to be there with my Dad when he passed away so he'd know he wasn't alone. I waited, I agonized over when to go home. I extended our trip out. Finally friends AND hospice workers told me I needed to get my son home. That my Dad might last for a couple more weeks. They said they'd call me when I started showing signs of imminent death so I could get back down there. They also told me that he might be waiting on us to leave...he might need us to go. I decided that I'd give him that opportunity and so I booked our flights to come back home Saturday...the day before Mother's Day.
That Friday I sat at my Dad's beside and held his hand. I watched him. I cried. I prayed to whomever might be listening that his suffering would be over soon. I talked to him. I told him all the things I needed him to know. I told him I was leaving but that I'd come back to be with him if he wanted that. I also told him if he was ready to go then not to hold on. I told him I will be ok. Coop will be ok. All his business had been handled. I KNEW that evening when I left that was the last time I'd see my Dad. I can't really put into words the way I felt....the way I still feel....
The kid and I arrived home safely. We spent Saturday evening and all day Sunday trying to get back to "normal". On Monday May 9th we got up and had breakfast. We just finished eating when my phone rang. It was 7:13 am. I saw it was hospice calling and I felt like I'd been punched in my stomach. They called to tell me that my Dad passed away peacefully in his sleep. He basically just stopped breathing. My Mom had called to check on him 1.5 hours before and he was holding steady. I guess my Pop decided he'd go out quietly and privately...with nobody around. He didn't need anyone to hold his hand. If you knew him, you'd understand this totally fit his style. " I do it my way and nobody else's" was def his method. He passed away one month and 2 days after his terminal diagnosis. I wish I'd know just how little time we had....
My Dad was cremated. His ashes are waiting on me to pick them up. I'm going back to MS with my guys next month. We will be hosting and Blues and BBQ memorial in his honor. We'll be driving back up to WA. Dad asked me to scatter him in the Cascades so we will be taking one final, legit road trip together. I fought like hell to get my Dad out to WA to be with us. I'm sad I couldn't pull it off while he was alive but I've learned from all this that some things are out of our hands. That was a tough lesson for a control freak like me. That's all I've got for now. More later today regarding life after a loved one's passing.
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