CHOOSING DAD PART I

Saying goodbye to my Mom was a journey I never dreamed of taking; she was the picture of perfect health: yoga, vegetarian, non-drinker, non-smoker and walked daily. She was 73 and had the energy of people half her age.

When we received the original diagnosis of cancer I became a warrior for her care. Then with the subsequent rounds of chemotherapy, I became her Girl Friday. As cancer continued its rage, I became her cheerleader. When cancer burrowed itself deep into her bones, I became her beacon of positive thinking. When cancer continued to beat her down and work to break her spirit, I became her advocate. When cancer finally took her, I became her guide and coach as she entered the final days in her life.

The final two weeks of her life really stand out. Mom’s mantra “you have choices” rang loud and clear in my mind on July 28, 2016, the day she slipped away from us. I was angry at my father. Angry because he didn’t listen to me when I recommended Hospice care. I was angry when he stopped allowing me to go to chemo appointments and to the doctors with her. I was angry because I felt shut out.

Looking back, I see that I chose to be angry at him; I chose to because I was losing my warrior, my Girl Friday, my cheerleader, my beacon of positive thinking, my advocate, my guide and my coach.

Once again, my subconscious opened up and I heard Mom’s words: “You have choices.” And I did. I could either choose to continue being angry at my father or I could let go. I chose the latter and took a step back and re-evaluated my relationship with my father and learned so much about him and about myself.