My Hero

Some people come into our lives for only a second, and then they leave us, and we remember them fondly. Others come into our lives, stay a while, make us laugh, cry and feel, and we remember them with warmth and occasionally love. Then there are those rare exceptions who come into our lives, stay forever and leave an indellible impression and we are never, ever the same again. For me, as I am sure holds true for the rest of you, that person was my Dad, Robert. My Father was a man of many facets, a diamond in his own right, if you will. Priceless, a treasure beyond compare, and my life will never be the same without him. Tomorrow morning, I will take my best friend to his final resting place, and nothing will ever ease that pain.

My Father had a deep, abiding Faith in God, and walked by his Faith, not by sight. and it is my belief that his Faith sustained him through very dark days and dark final hours.

He taught me by example to live my life truthfully, and with honor. To be an individual, and stand alone if necessary. But to stand and deliver, no matter what life threw at you. He taught me to laugh at the little things, because the big things would require more attention, and more clarity of thought. He always filled me with a strong sense of self, sense of hope and belief in the bond of family. But what he taught me that will last forever is the ability to love, even when it seemed impossible to do so. I passed those lessons on to my son Peter, and of late, have seen him exhibit behaviour that, were my Father able to recognize it, was a direct reflection of who Dad always was, and what he always took great care to try and teach us. Reciprocity at it's finest.

Several weeks ago, Peter and I went to visit my Dad in the nursing home, and found him in the dayroom, alone and confused as to how he'd gotten there. When Dad tried to get up from his chair, he couldn't do it, he was too weak and too frail. Peter reached down, put his arms around his Poppy and picked him up gently out of that chair, all the while telling him about his day, and how much he loved him and was glad to see him. It was not an easy process, the slightest touch hurt him. And Peter knew that. He steadied him on his feet, and held him close as they walked down the hall toward my Father's room, and as I followed behind them, taking it all in, I smiled, though inside I was silently dying.

In that exact moment, my memory strayed to a time when Peter was too small and frail to stand on his own, so his Poppy gently lifted him up, held him close and walked him to bed, safely. And I smiled then too. How things change. I am blessed to have been able to witness the beginning of one life, and the sad ending of another. All of us so intertwined, and so madly in love with one another. And I am so blessed to love and learn from both of these men, to be daughter to one, and Mother to another. But more than this, to be counted a trusted friend by both. They are a reflection of each other, and for this I will be eternally grateful. My Father is at the very core of who we are as people, Peter and I, and through us a part of him will remain alive always. We will pass his legacy on to future generations and he will live on through them, an ever integral part of this family, our patriarch.

How blessed I am in my lifetime to fully understand that my Father's hands were the first to carry my son into this world, with love and pride. And how blessed I am in my lifetime to bear witness to my son's hands being the last ones to carry my Father out of it tomorrow, with the same love and a huge measure of honor, though I know the task Peter now faces is not an easy one.

He was a joker, my Dad! If there was any humor to be found, he was the one to find it, and share it with everyone he could, and I cannot think of any better way to honor his life and the man he was to us all than by celebrating who he was with what he believed was the greatest gift in life. Laughter. When you think of him, do it with a smile, and he will be there, in that moment, laughing with you. But never at you. Be sure of that.

Grief is a natural part of loss, and noone loved my Father more than I did. Noone. I sat with him everyday in ICU, held his hand, held him close to me, spoke with him, and made much peace with his leaving all of us. I made peace with the emptiness his leaving would fill me with. And it certainly has. He allowed me to immerse myself in his life, and in the end, he allowed me to equally immerse myself in the near totality of his death. A gift, allbeit an odd one to most people, and one I will carry in my heart and my mind all the days of my life. He allowed me an experience so sacred, it is beyond words and simple comprehension. He helped me learn to live, and he allowed me to help us both to learn to die.

In a final act of love, and the final thing I could do for this man whom I loved, Friday night I told him it was ok to go, to be at peace. To finally rest. I told him that we would all be ok here, because he taught every one of us whose life he touched how to remember him, and to honor his memory by comforting one another. I praised his valiant fight all these months, and in the days leading up to his death, I told him that he was my hero. If I lived to be a thousand, I could not hope to be half the human being he was. I gave him permission to go. And so he did, surrounded by his wife, my aunt, my uncles and my cousin, to whom I will be ever grateful. In his final moments, they brought him peace and comfort, and helped to ease his transition from this world into the next. My biggest fear was that my Father would die alone. Because of their love and commitment to him, he did not, and there are not words enough in the tongues of men or Angels to express my love and commitment to them for their selfless act toward my Father. What the five of you did must have broken your hearts, please be assured it will forever be etched on mine.

Thank you all for being a part of his life, and as such, a part of ours as well. We have grieved, we will continue to mourn his passing, and we will hurt for many years to come, because the World has lost an amazing humanitarian. But when you feel the warmth of the sun on your face, smell the goodness of the Earth, and feel the closeness of family and friends, think of him. I surely will.

He was my best friend, my confidante, my wonderful Daddy and the first love I ever knew. and he will be missed more than he will ever know.