My dad had a stint put in the bile duct to unblock it. We thought all was well. The doctors were concerned about what blocked the bile duct. We found out later he had a tumor that was blocking the duct. In September, my dad had surgery to remove the tumor. We had no idea what was in store for him, the seriousness of the surgery and the recovery it was going to take to bring him back home. He was in the hospital for 3 weeks. My mother and I were there everyday, all day. My dad finally came home, although weak and needing to regain his strength after such an invasive surgery. He had a procedure called a whipple done. If you Google this procedure, you will see how extensive a surgery it is. He was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. The surgeon felt they had gotten all the cancer that the eye could see. They recommended chemo to get the cancer they could not see. By the time we went for chemotherapy, the cancer had spread to my father's liver. The plan then became to keep it from spreading as rapidly as it was. My dad did not take the chemo well. He was tired all the time, had little to no energy and would barely eat. After two months of chemo, we got the grave news. The cancer was still spreading and was spreading rapidly. The chemo didn't help. So hospice was called in. This was in February. My dad celebrated his birthday at the end of the month. I came to be with them in St. Louis at the end of February. My dad passed March 29, 2012.
I miss him more than words can say. The space he left behind can never be filled. He left pretty big shoes that cannot be filled either. It has been a process, a tumultuous process to resume life when a parent dies, especially one who was so influential. We (my father and I) never thought he would be the first one to leave. But he did and my mother and I are left to live our lives without him. School is hard, my family is separated. The children and I are living with my mom while my husband continues to take care of his mother (who lives with us) in Kansas City. My mother couldn't live with me, as she cannot navigate our steps. I thought it was too soon for her to pack up her things and live somewhere else. So in my effort to comfort her, I uprooted my family. A decision I am paying for. My children are adapting to not being around their dad everyday, but they miss him as much as I do. I miss my husband being able to assit me with every day chores and activities within our family. But what I miss the most, when I'm gripped by grief, being able to be held by him, and his speaking affirmations and comfort into my ear and soul. That cannot be done across the miles.
We are making a tough situation work. Our relationshp has grown and we have recognized the spaces we take up in each others life. I can't deny his presence in my life. When we finally are under one roof again, I will remind myself of what it was like without him. I will not take my husband for granted ever again.
