Father's Day

Three years ago, my family celebrated Father's Day twice. Once on the actual date, and once the week before. My Dad's health ( he had glioblastoma, an inoperable, invariably fatal brain cancer) had taken a marked turn and we worried he wouldn't be here for the "official" day.

After months of gradual decline, slowed by radiation, steroids and my mom's cooking, Dad had experienced a grand mal seizure at the beginning of June. No more would he shuffle down the hall in the morning towards the kitchen, a grin on his face as he called out Mom's name and looked forward to the breakfast she'd made for him. He wouldn't open the fridge door and look for buttermilk to pour over fresh, hot cornbread in the evenings.

In God's provident timing, a wheelchair had been dropped off just days before the seizure, and a male friend (important for men of Dad's generation) had talked to him frankly about adult incontinence products. Dad was mentally prepared for these changes before he had to face them with clouded cognition.

Dad settled down quietly, up in his wheelchair for meals and some visits, resting on the couch, and taking longer and longer naps in the bed he and Mom had shared for over 42 years. He recognized all of us kids, his friends, but couldn't focus on phone calls anymore. We knew the end of his time with us was approaching and we wanted to give him a Father's Day. We all were there, with spouses, grandkids, and a few close friends, Everyone had time to tell him of their love and to hear at least an "I love you" back.

To our surprise and great joy (and everything positive in these circumstances becomes a great joy), Dad stayed with us for eleven more days, leaving just after midnight on the day spring ended. We got to care for him, medically and physically, and tangibly show our love and appreciation. We got the "real" Father's Day.

This year, for the first time since my parents surprised me by appearing at our church in NC on a Sunday morning, my birthday coincides with Father's Day again. I was born on Father's Day--my Dad's 1st Father's day since I am the eldest. It's always been an extra special day for me, especially in those years when it coincided with my Bday. I expect to feel pretty emotional at some point tomorrow, as I will Tuesday on the anniversary of his death.

What I'm also feeling is that some sort of circle is now defined/completed as I pass a joint birthday/Father's Day. We've completed a full three-year liturgical cycle since Dad's death, nearly every Sunday of which Izzy & I have been in a Catholic Church. It will soon be three years since I moved back out of my parents' home (where I had lived while Dad was ill) and resumed life with Izzy. Three years since we moved our home to Cayce. Three years since we started inquiry classes before being received into the church.

Three years I never expected.

Happy Father's Day to any Dads, Padres or someday-to-be Padres out there.