"Life is what happens to you while you're
busy making other plans." John
Lennon in his song "Beautiful Boy"
In all the hustle and bustle of making quick plans for our
15-month journey (most people take years-we took six months), we organized,
studied other sailors' lists of essentials, learned about storing amazing
amounts of stuff in small spaces, ordered and replaced parts, mapped out an
itinerary, took Elliott out of school for the 2014-2015 school year, signed him
up with a home school, took a first-aid course, found someone to take care of
our house and pets while we were gone, stopped the newspaper and other
subscriptions, stopped scheduling house concerts, took a Virginia boat
education course, bought good sunglasses, had a long goodbye dinner with
friends, packed, unpacked, repacked, unpacked again, and then repacked. So many things to think of with new tasks
coming to the fore every day.
In all the planning, we didn't know that paternal storms were
brewing. No matter what you prepare for, life will hit
you with a sucker punch sometimes. We
didn't know that both of our fathers would be getting sick.
The first punch came from my side of the family; my dad was diagnosed
with cancer. Now we'd been aware of his
wife's cancer for at least ten years and she had been responding well to her
treatments, though hard, and she never stopped having hope. She traveled, worked
as long as she could, spent a lot of time with her family, and enjoyed
activities with her church family. She
is still living with cancer.
My dad's cancer was localized, or so we thought. Further tests showed that it had spread to
other places in his body. He is a
long-time smoker; I once told him that the black carbon is the only thing
holding him together. He has been given
a year-and-a-half to live, almost exactly the amount of time we had scheduled ourselves
to be sailing.
Now Gary's dad has a history of heart problems; while we were with
our friends on the Cape, we found out he was going to need yet another
procedure. He was going to need a valve
replacement and a stent inserted in one of the clogging arteries. It was scheduled for the
time we had hoped to continue traveling in the Northeast U.S. with a stop in
Niagara Falls. Instead, we came home to
be with him and my mother-in-law.
I hope my words don't seem like complaints, because they are
not. The health of our fathers is
paramount. But now we had and continue
to have decisions to make; stay or go?
Do I, as the eldest in my family, take a particularly active role
in my father's care and ditch the plans to travel? My heart says I should, but I don't even
think my father would want me to do that. He does not communicate with one of my
sisters, who lives local. The other
sister is in Mississippi and they speak quite a bit by phone. He is particularly close to his stepchildren
and I know they will step up as they have done for their mother's visits to
doctors and succeeding care. I've seen
him twice since we "left" on our journey, and it's been great to
share stories of our adventures with him, even if it is just about getting
struck by lightning!
We are not an especially maudlin family, but there are some
emotional triggers that are being tapped by this circumstance. Longing for a good fight and a right
relationship. Hoping that his pain and
debilitation is minimal and that he can sit on the back porch and smoke and drink
beer until the end. I know that I can't
imagine him any other place, nor that he would ever stop enjoying those
vices.
But do I want to be at sea during his last days? What if he dies while I'm gone? I still carry guilt from my mother's death 34
years ago; do I want to incur even more because I believe I'm not doing what
I'm supposed to be doing?
We're dealing with the same thing with Gary's dad. Many years of heart problems and a more
recent diagnosis of Diabetes 2 beg for a change in diet, but it will be slow
coming, if ever. The man likes his
desserts and Coke every single night and his wife is an enabler (as we've all
been at one time or another). Even when
presented with the option of healthier eating, he says, "Well, I've gotten
this far with what I've been doing, I'll be fine." (Not really, obviously.) I am a
pain for him because I won't shut up, but my husband says to leave it alone,
that I can't change people who don't want the change. Maybe this interference is my desire to make
things right in the Universal scheme of things; I don't know. I shouldn't take it personally in dealing
with old men set in their ways.
Both of our dads are in their seventies. My dad has said he has lived a good life and
that he's ready for whatever comes. We
haven't had that discussion with Gary's dad.
All in all, it is a scary year coming up, whatever choices we make and
whatever shores we land on. Feeling very
torn on this perfectly rainy day.
Next Up: The Cape
(Revisited)
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