I lost my Father to cancer in 1994, he was 62. I was 28 when he passed away. He was diagnosed in April of 1993 with colon cancer. I remember spending that Easter Sunday in the hospital with him and my mother while they were getting him ready for surgery first thing Monday morning. Surgery came and went followed by many months of chemotherapy and radiation treatments.
I hated seeing my father going through these treatments and the toll that it was taking on him, but I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him either.
I remember our last Thanksgiving and Christmas together. I remember Christmas Eve, he didn’t care that he was weak and walking with a cane. He wanted to go to church that evening and we made it happen.
Then about a week into the New Year he started having seizures and was rushed to the hospital only to find the cancer had spread. We were told at that point it was just a matter of time. My world was coming to an end. The first man that I ever loved was going to be taken from me. All I kept asking was, why God? Why my dad? I prayed for God to give me strength as in Philippians 4:13 I can do all this through him who gives me strength.
My dads wish was to come home. My mother being the loving wife that she was, left her job so that he could come home and so that she could be there to help and take care of him 24/7. We got a hospital bed, arranged for Hospice to come a few days a week to help with his care and finally we were able to get him home.
Then came that snowy February day when the Hospice nurse came. She took his vitals and came out and told us that he would probably pass within the next 48 hours. I tried to stay strong, but it was really hard. We started making phone calls to all our family. The next morning my father started asking for his brothers and sisters. We called and they dropped what they were doing to get there to be by his side. Upon his last sister arriving and assuring him that she was there, we told him that it was okay and that he could go. My father took one deep breath and left out a heavy what seemed to be sigh. This was the last breathe that he took. He was just waiting for everyone to get there so he could say good-bye. He passed that day surrounded by family that loved him so dearly.
I never knew hurt until I saw what my father went through. I felt an eerie peace when he passed, it was like I knew that this was the best thing. Never a day goes by that I don’t think of him. I still tell him that I love him, how much I miss him, and I thank him every day for watching over my mother, brother and myself for keeping us safe. With the help of God and our continuous prayers we were able to heal from his passing. As well as the guidance from others who had been through this helping us to see the reality. And helping us to cope. Psalm 119:28 My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to your word. I now try to help others in similar situations to be there for them and help to support them during their difficult time.
I love you to the moon and back daddy, and you will always be the brightest star shining in the sky for me to see.Written by Pam Faltin in loving memory of her father