I know I'm not alone here when I say that my Dad is hands down the most amazing person I've ever known. I got to spend the weekend with him and my Mom on a spontaneous visit. You may or may not know he was recently diagnosed with an aggressive form of Acute Myelogenous Leukemia (AML). He was even, for lack of a better term, adorable when he broke the news to me over the phone. He said, 'well, it's not exactly good news.' I laughed when I thought about the conversation later because I am entirely certain the news should have been laden with lots of profanity and expletives; not delivered in a calm and cool demeanor, but that's my Dad.
Over the years, Ryan and I have gotten to know my parents more as people and have come to cherish our time with them. In making our decision to move to Portland, being further away from them was the hardest part. Not everybody gets along with their family like we do and while we all have our weaknesses and idiosyncrasies, our strengths come together beautifully in a crisis. My Dad is stuck in the hospital for a minimum of six weeks at this point, he's on week three. My Aunt and Uncle have been there almost every other day and every single day on the weekends. They've brought my brother and our nephew to come visit and driven countless miles back and forth, just to be with my Dad. My Mom is inherently upbeat; she exudes positivity from every pore in her body. She has been so strong and solid for him through this it's unbelievable. She spends most all her days there and some of her nights, but it's not just because my Dad needs it, it's just where she wants to be. My parents aren't the sort of people who are meant to be apart. You look at them and think what a wonderful couple they are and then to watch them through this and actually see them grow stronger is amazing. Each day we got to that hospital room, my Dad lit up to see my Mom come through the door, and while they have always been that way, it's still nice to see it after so many years. He makes my Mom happy and I think that's actually all it takes to make him happy. This weekend we were talking about marriage and he said 'you have to choose your mate wisely'. He told me when Ryan asked for my hand in marriage, he asked him why he thought we could make it work and Ryan said, 'I think I can always make her laugh'. He told Ryan that was good because all he cared about was that I would be taken care of and that I would be happy. My Dad is amazing for a plethora of reasons, not the least one being that he just wants to see his family happy.
I kept trying to prepare myself for this really sick person in a hospital gown with cords and needles and the like attached all over his body. So walking down the hallway to his room, I was taking lots of deep breaths. When I walked in the door, this is what I saw... He was dressed to the nines (as he always is) and he was just my Dad. I didn't even pretend to shed a tear during the long hug I got from him. We were able to walk down to the patio and have some coffee and talk about everything that was going on. The only difference was that it wasn't our patio at home, he hasn't seen that patio for three weeks; but he will again soon. The next day, my brother came up and we had a head shaving ceremony (you can see pictures at www.caringbridge.org/visit/michaelhmckiernan). And wouldn't you know... my Dad looks G-O-O-D. Of course he has a perfectly shaped head and no weird bumps or dents so it's as if he just decided to cut off his ponytail and go hairless for the summer heat. It was not as if he was losing his hair already due to chemo. He actually looks perfectly healthy. It doesn't make sense that he's sick on the inside because he's SO not on the outside. He's so strong for me and for my Mom, so when something little happens; a bloody nose, or putting on a mask to leave the room, it takes me by surprise because it's only then that I remember he can't just escape the walls of this hospital whenever he wants to. I met lots of his nurses and doctors while I was there and many of them hugged me as if they knew me. Apparently my Dad talks about me once in awhile... hopefully, they all know that I am only the person I am today because of my parents.
My Dad is not like anyone I've ever known. He's strong and compassionate and really intelligent (although I think it took years of convincing from my Mom for him to believe that) and he's also really good looking! While you could use those words to explain a lot of people, I think most people would understand that I'm ONLY using those words because the real words to describe my Dad don't exist; you can't put it into words. I sat in that hospital room for three days and I can't even count the amount of times I heard the words 'lucky' and 'grateful'. To think we were talking about him having leukemia is odd. We were 'lucky' that they seemed to have caught it so early and we are 'grateful' that he happened to be in such good shape when it happened so he can be stronger to fight it. In reality, I don't feel 'lucky' at all. I'm glad I still have my Dad, but not glad he's in the situation he's in. Being lucky would have meant NO ONE would ever have to encounter this. And yet, there we all were, together, telling stories and laughing and singing 'Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star' to Cooper before bed.
We spent my last night there with my Aunt and Uncle having a candlelit dinner and talking about how nice it was to be together. It will be a long road to recovery but Dad is only 62, so he has a whole bunch of years to spend with my family and his Grandbabies. And yes, we are thankful. We are thankful to have the support of our immediate family and the thoughts and hope of our extended family all over the country and world. And although I would like to be spending my next trip to Phoenix with my parents at my childhood home, I'm open to spending it anywhere as long as we are all together. Saying goodbye this morning was much different and a whole lot harder than saying hello, so hopefully we'll be saying 'hello' again soon. I love you Dad and can't wait to hug you again.
~Ahna
I'm so sorry to hear about your dad. I'm glad he has an upbeat attitude because sometimes the person's attitude really can make a difference!
You are in our thoughts and prayers!
Trust me when I say that I know what you're going through. Your dad sounds just like my mom the first time she went through her cancer treatments. It's hard to try to see someone as the same person when they appear so healthy, yet are so sick. It's the person you see before you today that you need to keep in your mind. He is preparing you for what he is going to need down the road. It always seems to be harder on the family than the patient in the beginning. When the treatments start to take their toll your dad will need the love and support of his family the most. I have no doubts that you guys will be able to carry your dad through this. - Jerod