Last month marked the one-year anniversary of my dad’s passing. I gathered with all of my brothers and sisters at my mom’s house to share stories and memories, laughter and love. What a blessing to be a part of such a wonderful family.
My dad fought cancer for several years. There were surgeries, treatments and periods of remission. But, in the end, it always returned.
He battled to the end, refusing to allow this disease to rob him of productivity during the days he had left. He needed daily oxygen treatments. Rather than accepting this passively, he bought some hand weights and worked out his upper body while attached to the machine.
He spent a fair amount of time daily praying for his family…his wife, five children, their spouses and children, and several great-grandsons. He held onto his faith as he fought.
He continued reading, studying and learning new things. During our telephone conversations, he would discuss politics, scientific advancements, religion and anything else that was on his mind. Until almost the very last moment, he did not take large amounts of medications, so that his mind would be clear.
He continued to keep his routine, washing and dressing every morning, puttering around the house and yard as long as he was able.
On his 82nd birthday he passed peacefully; in his own home, surrounded by many loved ones. We were sad, but comforted by the fact that he had lived every day with purpose. What a wonderful legacy to leave behind…that one has truly lived, fully and completely, for whatever time he is given.
One day, when my turn comes, I hope to be able to tell him I did the same.