Lessons from My Father

I've been recuperating at home since my ankle surgery the Friday before last. It's been much harder this time around - due, I think, to the combination of age and the extent of the repairs done. The forced time off has left me some time to think - most thoughts being very shallow (George Clooney is single again!) but some reflective.

Today is Father's Day. It's a day that doesn't pass without some ache in my heart. Who knew that I would miss the obligatory phone call to Dad? I would give just about anything to hear his voice and laugh with him again.

Recently, a coworker of mine, whom I admire very much for her insight, honesty, generosity, and talent, approached me. Her father had been recently diagnosed with lung cancer (the same kind of cancer as my father had and unfortunately one with a very low survival rate) and since this was his second bout of cancer (first being prostate), his diagnosis is grim. Knowing I had been through the chemo, radiation, doctors' visits and hospital stays, she asked if I would share my thoughts on his care.

I gave her some practical tips.

1. Make sure to start an insurance folder to hold and reconcile every bill and insurance statement. You'll amazed the number of papers that come in for every doctor's visit.
2. Start a notebook of appointments of his doctors, a record of all discussions, procedures, medications and even bodily functions. When the nurses and doctors ask, your father won't remember and neither will you. It's easier to reference the notebook.
3. Find out where his will, his bank statements and other important papers are. Digging for them afterwards will be a nightmare that you don't have to go through.
4. Arrange for hospital equipment (shower chair, walker, hospital bed, etc.) to be brought to the house. It's amazing how quickly all those things become necessary. You don't want to be fighting to get those things when he needs it, it's better to have them before he does.
5. Discuss with him (gently) about his end of life wishes - hospice or hospital, extreme measures or relief of pain, funeral arrangements etc. His having some say in those decisions will give him a sense of control. And knowing that these are his last wishes will make those decisions easier.

Then after having given her the above list, I thought some more of the time I had with my father toward the end and I came up with another list. One that had little to do with practicalities but more to do with the soul.

1. Take care of yourself. Don't forget in the chaos of chemo, radiation, childcare, work, and your marriage - you have to take time to make sure you're ok. It's not at all selfish. Ignoring your own needs will only make it harder to recover.
2. Talk to your father every day. Call several times a day. Leave messages if he's too tired to talk. And don't just talk about how he's feeling. Talk about the memories, your kids, family gossip, the news. You don't know when you're last conversation with him will be so always end your calls with, "I love you."
3. Allow yourself a good cry once in a while. It helps. Really.
4. When it's time, and you'll know when it is, go be with him. Turn off your Treo, don't answer phone calls from work, don't turn on your laptop. This is your time. Honor him. Honor yourself and your relationship with him. Even when Dad couldn't talk and wasn't awake, it comforted me just to hold his hand.
5. And after he's gone, remember him with love but don't idolize or idealize him. He wouldn't want that. No, what he'd want would be for you to go forward living your life and not wallowing in the could haves, should haves, or would haves. Live your life as he taught you - with honesty, hard work, respect and love.

These are the important lessons that my dad taught me.