To Another 33 Years!

This past weekend was a special time for my family as my mom ‘became one’ with the new love of her life.

My mom and dad had been married for 33 years before he passed away at 55 years of age.  It was quite sudden and quite certainly devastating.  But this event effected no one more than my mom.

Just starting phase 3…

The first part of our lives consist of being born and getting through puberty.  Then we transition to marriage and kids.  And all of this is followed by the empty nest stage which I just referred to as phase 3.  It is in this stage where a whole new chapter is about to unfold.  You have the joy of children without the responsibility, the freedom of adulthood with much more maturity and appreciation for life.  You’ve earned your stripes and you’re ready to make some new memories, just you and your best friend.  It has the potential to be a pretty amazing time in your life.

It was in the early stages of this ‘phase’ when hope was shattered and many hearts were broken.

I remember it like it was yesterday (a common phrase, but accurate none the less).  The sun was shining and all was well in my mind.  I walked into their home as I often did.  But as I passed by the den, I saw my dad sitting on the couch with an awful look of anguish.  Having no idea what was going on, I walked over and said, “You don’t look like you’re feeling so good?”  In his commonly simple reaction, he forced a grin and said, “Nope.”

Other than the fact that my dad almost never got sick, I had no reason to think much of it.  So I walked into the kitchen to find my mom in a state of deep concern.  This is when I started to worry.  “What’s going on?”, I asked her.  “Your father has been vomiting and the doctors don’t know why.”  In an attempt to help her relax I said, “Oh, he’ll be fine.  I’m sure it’s nothing.”  I left soon after, not thinking the worst, but fighting some anxiety none the less.

The wall came crumbling down.

Later that night or that week (I’m not sure which) I received a call that now represents a pivotal moment in my life.  It was from my mom and she was crying.  She didn’t have to say anything for me to know that our world was about to be turned upside down.  “Eric, your father has brain cancer.”  (This later turned out to be skin cancer that had spread all throughout his body.)  Suddenly all of the air in my lungs disappeared and was no where to be found.  I was almost numb, but could feel the rush of sorrow off in the distance.  It was coming at me like a tidal wave and all I could do was brace myself.  It was in that moment that I experienced the awful feeling of losing a loved one while they were still alive.

Saying goodbye.

It’s quite an odd experience knowing the end is near.  We were unsure of the exact date, but we knew it would be measured in months.

Soon after they had started treatment we found ourselves celebrating Christmas.  Dad looked like he had aged 30 years in only 3 weeks.  We sat around the Christmas tree, trying to enjoy the moment.  But the joy of the season was no where to be found.

As the weeks went by we just spent as much time with him as we could.  They had him on medications that gave him quite an appetite, so my mom made him wonderful meals with ingredients of love and affection.  My dad’s spirits were high as he was fully aware of his likely departure.

Super Bowl Sunday came and we were all geared up for the event.  Mom had splurged on a new wide screen tv and my best friend, Nigel, had brought fresh Bar-B-Que from home.  We had a great time as we lived in the moment, as if tomorrow had not yet been invented.

Shortly there after, dad had fallen into a coma.  Many from our church were over and prayer was the topic of the day.  While they gathered in the living room, I went to say goodbye.  The room was dark and my dad was propped up in his bed.  Each breath was a struggle as his body was slowly shutting down.  Unsure if he could hear my words, I pressed on with my farewell.  Holding his hand with mine, I fought my tears as I opened my heart, “Dad, it’s me, your son.”  The words that followed shall remain in their rightful place, between a ‘boy and his father’.  But I can tell you that he meant the world to me, and I said just as much with my tears as I did with my lips.

The domino effect.

Following my father’s death, my mom was left with much to attend to and, unfortunately, many more losses to come.

My father was the third generation in his family to own and run our local furniture store.  And while he was sick, things went south.  This, combined with a tough business to begin with, resulted in the inevitable closure of over 75 years in business.  Then, to help quell the financial woes, my mom had to sell her house.  And in the process of all this, she had to put down her otherwise healthy cat of 10 years because of an aggressive streak that followed my dad’s death.  (It was as if he was mad at the world that his buddy had been taken away.)  Needless to say, my mother had been pushed well beyond her breaking point.

Brokenness.

The fews years that followed were filled with struggles of all kinds.  From addiction to counseling and medications, it was all my mom could do to put the pieces back together.  There were many times where she just didn’t want to go on.  And it seemed to be an eternity before the tunnel she was in allowed anything other than total darkness.  But it was only in her brokenness that hope could find it’s way back into her life.  It was when she stopped trying to ‘cope’ that she was able to let go of these shattered pieces and hold on to the only thing she knew to be real.

It was as she re-connected to her faith in Christ and let Him lead the way, that she was released from the grips of sorrow that held her so tight.

A new best friend that brought more than friendship.

About a year or so ago my mom and Scott crossed paths for the first time.  Working in similar fields, they couldn’t help but share a few words now and again.  But over the weeks and months that followed, a friendship ensued.  And with a natural progression, a deep love followed with marriage as the inevitable consequence.

So this brings us to this weekend, where mom and Scott were ‘brought together in holy matrimony’.  It was a wonderful, simple wedding that was everything we could have hoped for.  We celebrated afterwords at their home as I slowly absorbed the idea of having a father once again.  Not that Scott could ever replace my dad, but I don’t resist the idea of creating new friendships and new memories with a new father.  He is worthy of the task and I am thankful for his presence in our lives.

Another 33 years.

So here we are, at the beginning of a new chapter.  My mom is happy once again as she has a new soul to share her heart with.  A piece of our family was lost, but a new one has been added.  The scar will always be a visible mark of our sorrow, but it has healed in a way that allows for new growth.

My hope for this new couple is that they can enjoy each and every second allowed them, as they march ahead with the sun rising in the distance.  The years to follow are uncertain, a truth that has always existed.  But with every new day comes hope, and with every ounce of hope comes an opportunity for life to be lived to it’s fullest potential.  I see great things ahead of these two souls, if only that of love between two friends.