My Dad

Wow its been awhile since my last post. Alot has happened in the last couple of years, I'm not sure where to begin. I guess I'll start with a big ticket item. In July of last year my Dad lost his 8 year battle with cancer. Its hard to explain how I feel about it, I guess you need some history. My dad and mom divorced when I was 7 years old and he moved across the state when I was 10, so needless to say I didn't see him much growing up. I never felt like a priority to him but I knew he loved me. Dad married 5 more times after he and mom divorced so I had a wide aray of stepmothers, but his last wife was by far the best for him and us. Deb has no kids of her own and she loves us and treats us as if we belong to her. When dad called me to tell me the news that he had cancer it hit like a lead balloon, I received the call on the very day we buried my Grandpa (who I lived with 2 years when I was a teenager), so it was a difficult day already. Pancreatic Cancer was the diagnosis, he said it was a very aggressive fast growing cancer, but there was some hope. He went on to explain that there was a procedure the doctor wanted to try and thought he was a good canadite for, and lets face it without it he only had a matter of months. Dad was raised in church and he knew what was right from wrong, but he chose to ignore God and live a sinful life for many, many years. Dad had a problem with drinking and I guess you can figure out with 6 marriages, he was quite the womanizer. I was really worried about him losing his life, but I was even more concerned with his soul. I went to church on that following Sunday and stood at the alter and prayed to God telling him I could bare to lose my dad but I couldnt bare to lose him to Hell. I begged and pleeded with him for more time. My sister and I went to the hospital on the day of surgery and saw our dad as they took him back for what we did not realize was a very difficult surgery. As dad told us of the surgery he left out the details of the surgery to protect us as he often did. The procedure he had was the Whipple procedure (not sure I spelled that correctly), when the doctor came to speak with us after the surgery he went over the staticts...I don't remember the numbers like I should, but it was something like only 5% of people with pancreatic cancer are even considered a canadate for this procedure, only 10% of people survive the surgery, and only 10% live 5 years after the surgery. WOW...Well after a long round with chemo and a huge struggle to battle back after such an evasive surgery my dad went 5 years cancer free. Then the dreaded phone call came, the cancer was back and in his lung. Here we go again. Praying, praying, and more praying is what I did. I got a phone call one day from Debbie saying she went to a little church by there house and she got saved, Praise the Lord, but at this point dad still wasnt going. I guess dad could see the change in her life and maybe fear was beginning to set in, she convinced him to go to a revival at her church and that night my dad gave his heart back to Jesus. The change in my dad was amazing. It was so weird, but sooo wonderful to go to dads house and sit down to dinner and hear my dad say Grace...I never thought I would hear that. Not saying I don't have faith that God can turn someone around, I know He can, but He gave me more than I had asked for. I was overwhelmed listening to my dad pray such a simple but sincere prayer over food, but I could tell by his comfort in doing so he had that relationship with Christ. On July 22nd my sister and I went to see my dad after getting a phone call from Debbie saying things are not looking good. When we got there he perked up and tried to talk with us, but it was very hard on him. That was the last time my dad spoke to me. We came home crying most of the 3 hour drive. We came home to get things in order so we could be gone a couple of days. We got a phone call on the 23rd around 6:30pm to come back now, we packed a bag and got there around midnight, we spent the night sitting up with my dad, and at around 10am Sunday morning He went home to be with Jesus. Debbie has been wonderful and she took good care of my dad as he battled this horrific disease, and for that I thank her. My sister and I are making that trip on Friday for the first time since dad died, I know it will be hard, but we need to do it. I miss my dad very much and I wish we could have spent more time together and I wish we could do some things over and not take time for granted. But I know one thing for sure...he is in Heaven dancing with Jesus, playing beautiful music on his guitar, and he is not in pain anymore.