What my father said

My father’s chemotherapy treatment yesterday went incredibly well.   I can only be unrelentingly grateful for the support we both received yesterday, because the medical situation is uncertain.   Even the chemotherapy treatments he is receiving are a new protocol for the condition he has.  In other words, even the doctor’s acknowledge that they don’t know exactly how this works,  this is just the best form of treatment they have at this time for a rare condition.

Buying time.  You can read about it or  consider someone else in this kind of situation, but until you have a loved one seriously ill,  that phrase makes no sense.   Yes,  everything is ultimately God’s will, or fate.  But when something on the human level appears to have the power to give you a little more time with someone you love, someone you have things to share and discover with,  you buy time.

My father was more aware and active yesterday than any of his other chemotherapy treatments.   There was one particular thing he said to me that I remembered in great detail when I woke up this morning.   My father fell asleep for a short during some of the medications that cause drowsiness.  Suddenly he woke up and turned to me, “You should take the table and chairs on my porch.”   I asked him if he wasn’t going to be sitting out there?    “No,  I’m not going to be here much longer.”   We continued to talk about the balcony furniture for a while longer as he woke up.    But what I am trying to describe here is not the words of the conversation per se.   It was that my father was speaking from a soul overview perspective when he first woke up from that nap.  He was speaking from that place where we can see our own dissolution happening and start to discuss it calmly with our loved ones.   It is not a place where you either run from death,  will death or are unaware of your impending death.  It is the heart-open, eyes open place where you encompass it.

This more anything is what I have prayed to share with my father while supporting him in his old age and illnesses.  It is the reason why as a middle-aged adult I chose to live with my father for many years,  even at (apparently) great impact to my life on the social level.  I am so grateful for even this small fruition of my deepest dream for my father.

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