In 2006, for my father’s 85th birthday, my sister came up with an idea that we (all of his kids and grandkids) should write down our favorite memory of him and she’d put them all in a book that he could look at and have in his possession. It was a wonderful idea and a wonderful, thoughtful gift for the man who has everything in life he needs (except good health.)
The only real problem was that I couldn’t think of a single, unique memory that I thought was appropriate. I thought of several things that were special to me but couldn’t come up with just the right memory to put in the book. The big day came and went, Dad got his book of memories and I was feeling badly about not having an entry to put in it.
A few years went by and my his health got worse. In 2000, at the age of 79, (he’ll be 90 in May!) he had suffered a massive heart attack and a stroke at the same time, surviving quadruple bypass surgery, then numerous trans ischemic attacks (TIAs) which are, in essence, mini strokes. Over the years he grew steadily weaker, losing more and more sensation and movement on his right side and eventually losing sight in one eye from damage to the optic nerve due to a lack of proper blood circulation. He went from still being able to walk unaided to walking with a cane, to using a walker until, eventually, he bacame unable to walk at all and is confined to a wheelchair. He battles with speech disabilities, sometimes unable to say what’s on his mind even though his thought process is working perfectly. It frustrates him terribly when he can’t get the words out. Imagine living like that for eleven years.
As time goes by and I watched him deteriorate very slowly it occurred to me why I hadn’t been able to write about my favorite memory of my father. It was because that memory was ongoing. It wasn’t finished yet and still isn’t.
OK, you may be lost by now. Let me explain. This ongoing memory is not about what is happening to my father physically. It’s about what he does every day mentally and emotionally. You see, not once in the entire time he’s been dealing with his ailments has he spent any time complaining. He greets everyone with a smile even on the days he can’t talk. He has never lost his sense of humor, even when he’s feeling his worst. He teases the girls and women, flirts with them even on his bad days and he loves nothing more than being surrounded by his five children. The man is cheerful and happy most of the time despite his circumstances. He has bad days when he’s grumpy but those are rare. He has full time nursing assistance at home right now and the nurses and aids marvel at his attitude and at what a kind, cheerful and pleasant patient he is all the time, regardless of what is going on with him physically.
Even on his best days he’s hampered both physically and mentally by his disabilities yet he is thankful for every day he wakes up in the morning. He has told me on more than one occasion he never thought he would live this long and he wonders why God has kept him around. My sister once stated “I just don’t understand why God is taking him just a little at a time.” His doctors call him their miracle patient because, in their words “He should be dead. We don’t know why he’s still alive.” I can tell them all the answer to that question. It’s because he inspires so many people with his outlook on life and his attitude toward each and every day. People who know him and visit with him feel better about themselves and their situations after seeing this special man deal with his life as it is with a smile on his face. And I think God is using him for that purpose.
Throughout the last eleven years, through the suffering, the surgeries, the physical therapy (which he absolutely hated), the speech therapy, and the realization that each time he lost another piece of himself it wasn’t coming back, he never once lost or even questioned his faith in God. Even on his worst days, when he can’t put two words together in a coherent manner, if he’s asked to pray before a meal he can do it without difficulty and without error and everyone can understand him. It’s a part of who he is and what has governed his life.
My greatest memory of my father is ongoing because he continues to go on. He is an inspiration to me and to many others. I can only hope if I ever find myself in a position even half of what he is in today, I can face life with the same positive attitude, the same faith and the same sense of humor that my dad demonstrates every day of his life. I’m hoping, because of my genetic makeup, that I inherited those qualities from him. I am very lucky to have this man as my father. My greatest memory of him is who he is today and what he demonstrates to us all. I couldn’t be more proud of him. I love you, Pop.
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