First of all, Christmas is supposed to be a time of family and joy. Unfortunately, this year, the Good Lord had different plans, at least for our family. Although Dad is home with us for Christmas this year, he is barely recognizable as the old “Frank” that everyone was familiar with, but it is clear that everyone still loves him regardless. He has had more visitors to the house in the past couple of days, and we are so very thankful that he is with us. He did not get to enjoy the Christmas tree, as he is unable to get out of bed. In fact, he is unable to do anything at all. The last time he ate was the few bites of macaroni & cheese that my sister tried to feed him the night we brought him home from the physical therapy center exactly 3 days ago.
It is so weird to think that just last week (even days ago), Dad was talking, joking, laughing, eating, going to the bathroom (although with help), and enjoying his time with family and friends. He was even going to physical therapy every day.
Did dad decide that it was time? I almost feel that way. It’s almost as if he just wanted to come home (even though it is not his home in Florida, it is his home) so he could be at peace with his family by his side.
Hospice gave us a book on what to expect during the final stages of cancer, and we have been following it and realizing that Dad is every bit the cancer patient that they were writing about.
I am scared, sad, and angry, but the love that I have for my dad is beyond anything that cancer can take away from me. I refuse to let my dad think anything other than the fact that there is an abundance of love around him every second of every day that he has left.
Merry Christmas Dad! I love you!