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Remembering my Father....

It is difficult to believe that 22 years have passed since my Father died.I have the proof directly in front of me in the form of a Daughter age 23 who was sitting in his lap playing with his gold chain at 8 months old. Or having my baby Daughter 20 now. It seems like a long time and at the same time, a very short time. I am now 49. Dad was 49 when his cancer was found and he had surgery. It looked like he might not survive the treatment. I remember going into the SICU after he came back from surgery and seeing him lying there with so many tubes and machines and feeling so hurt. Here was my larger than life Dad who was so tiny and hurt lying there on that bed! Just the day before we had gone over to a racket club and played a set of tennis. It was his passion. Now he was lying there fighting to live. Over the next weeks he continued to lose weight and be unable to eat. I think a turning point came one weekend he and Mother came down to our house in Lanett. Bev and I had started eating lots of Bryer's Ice Cream with all the toppings. Chocolate syrup, bananas, nuts, and whipped topping. When he was offered some, he accepted and was able to eat it and keep it down. It tasted good to him and he was able to nourish himself from it. He went on to gain back weight and went on to get back playing tennis again. He looked for the world like he had beaten the odds. But it wasn't to be. He began to have some pain in his side and it turned out to be the cancer coming back with a vengance. He died on May 29th of 1984 a little less than 2 months short of his 53 birthday.

Having arrived at that time of life myself, I realize how young he was. And I realize how much was left for him to live. There is no way I can know if I will live to great age or if some accident or disease will cut it short. But if I live over the next few years and beyond, I will be living those years for the both of us. I will remind myself that each day is a gift and that there are no guarantees. I find within myself traces of him. I sense him in some of my attitudes and feelings. I am my father's son.

Happy Father's day, Dad.

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