The Old Poet
Blog Posted:11/12/2012 3:58:00 AM
As a young man, he studied to become a Baptist minister. Every Sunday, after church, he would gather us all into the living room, his three daughters (at that time) sitting indian style on the living room floor with his wife nearby, while he read aloud his poetry. I was little then, but as I grew up, he drank a lot, and called his wife and daughters awful names. He ran out on us all the time, but it seems he always came back. Perhaps I have done worse.
He's 82 now. Last week while he was sitting in his chair, his body started convulsing. At the hospital they discovered he has a large mass in his stomach and he is bleeding internally. They had to give him five pints of blood. His memory is suffering these days too. They've told him several times about his condition, but a few minutes later, he has forgotten all of it. He is down to 112 pounds. He refuses to have surgery because he can't remember what the doctors have found. He refuses to have the colonoscopy done, which would tell them more about the bleeding. He is going to die, and he don't know it because he can't remember what he's been told. No one seems to know how long he will survive if the bleeding continues untreated. Obviously, since he was five pints low on blood, we are not talking about a slow leak. We don't know for certain if the mass is cancer, although we all believe it is. The biopsy results wont be in until Tuesday or Wednesday. They sent him home from the hospital, and comfort measures are being taken. His affairs are in order.
I cannot put my emotions into a poem. The closer something is to my heart, the less I am able to write about it. I guess I am just too overwhelmed by experiencing it.
My little sister, who is with him now, tells me that he probably wouldn't survive the surgery anyway, at his age. But something inside tells me that Life is our greatest gift from God, and we should hold onto it, and fight for it until our final breath. I guess that's just my personal opinion. I await the call that tells me that my father has passed.
And all of this, while John and his mother are still in dire straights. Their power won't be back on until after Thanksgiving. They are adjusting. I know that he does want to post a blog to Thank everyone who has already given so much, and he WILL do that as soon as he is able. They are working hard to clean up the mess, and John is still caring for his mother during all of this. They are both well, at this time. He calls me every few days for an update. But they are still in need.
My plate is full, and yet I am helpless.
Love and hugs to all, Catie