Time With Dad

The most dreaded day of the year for me is my birthday and it's not because I am getting older. It seems that I was born on the unluckiest day of the year. I had some horrible times on my birthday when I was younger but it wasn't until my 18th birthday that I knew, for a fact, my birthday was unlucky. The morning of my 18th birthday I woke up with a rash all over my entire body and my stomach felt like I was being stabbed every ten seconds. I went for a lot of testing but never found out what was wrong, it just went away one day. The years in between my 18th birthday and my birthday last year were just as unlucky but last year was, by far, the worst. That was the day I had received that dreaded call from my brother, the call that changed my life forever.

Over the next couple of weeks I was able to spend almost every day with my dad. I would cry on my drive to his house but remain completely calm while I was there. But by the time I left each visit, I was holding back the tears until I was out of his sight and I would let it all out. On the drive home, which is only a 6 minute drive, I usually had to pull over a few times because I was unable to see through the tears. It didn't get any better once I got home either. I didn't sleep, eat, or interact with my husband and kids. I was a wreck!

I have always been really close to both my mom and my dad and been able to talk about everything with either one but this time was different, this time I couldn't talk about it with my dad. How was I supposed to talk about how I was feeling about all of this? How was I going to be able to stay strong for him? Wouldn't it be selfish if I brought up the agony I was going through? To compensate being unable to talk to my dad about it, I called my mom....twice as much. But it didn't feel the same to me and I became more and more depressed, until Labor Day weekend.

As I stated in my last post, I spent the entire weekend in front of my computer learning how to crochet. By Monday, I had finished my first hat and my first scarf. I couldn't wait to show my dad what I had done and felt confident that I could hold the tears back until I arrived back home. When I got to his house he was already laying in bed, watching TV. I went and sat by his bedside with my bag of crocheted items by my side. I told him about my weekend and pulled the items out. His eyes gleamed and he told me how proud he was. Hearing the pride in my dad's voice made it all worth while for me. Awhile later, my dad looked me right in the eyes and said, "Bethany, it's okay to be sad and cry around me. I am sad as well. I will miss my children immensely....you have all brought me so much joy. I can't say I am happy that I have terminal cancer but I am happy to have my family around and to have a chance to spend time with all of you, even if it's for a short time". After that we both opened up to how we were feeling and never held back on any of our emotions, our bond grew more and more each visit. 

***The hat and scarf I made Labor Day Weekend, 2011

I am thankful for each visit I had with my dad, it's time I will treasure forever. I am also thankful for having such a terrific husband who has given me the opportunity to be a stay-at-home-mom, it's because of that I was able to spend so much time with my dad during his last few months. I am grateful for having such a strong man as a father, he will always be a big inspiration to me. I know that he is looking down on me and that he is proud of his little girl, no matter what accomplishments I make.