My Ma was in a very bad way. She was crying so bad and felt so sad and these tears she was crying was not like the ones I had heard through so many nights. There was a pain, an inner pain that seemed to be like no other I have ever seen. My Pa was disturbed but in a need to know type of disturbance. He paced around the kitchen table waiting patiently for my ma to be able to tell him what the doctor had said. But, he knew when he asked her and as she fell to pieces that whatever news they were waiting for was not what they wanted to hear. The only news he would need to find out would be how long he had left and this would be how long he had left to live. They kept this quiet from us kids and did quite well at it. But, now we are new.
I didn't talk to my Ma about it for some time, we just sort of went through the motions of every day with the knowledge the clock was ticking. My Pa was a good size man. Standing 6'2" and weighing in at about 230 pounds. He always seemed to be healthy and being a farmer and steel mill worker in physical good shape. I was in somewhat of a denial that this could happen to somebody that looked so healthy. I was not prepared to watch what transpired over the following six months.
My Ma continued her job and that may have been the best thing for her to be around people and think about something else even if for a few hours a day. My Pa continued working at the steel mill until he was just to weak to make another day. My sister was still gone. Mostly staying in the next town with her boyfriend and family. My brother was falling into a crowd of wrong people still. No big drugs or anything like that but there was the alcohol and was hardly home either. As for me, well I have always been on the outside looking in and this was no different. What I saw was a man going down and all the ones he did seem to care about were all gone. Suddenly, he didn't seem to look soooo mean anymore. But instead confused and lost. At a distance from within his own being. I had no doubt he was trying to process all that was going on and about to go on.
I never did stop wanting my Pa to have that emotion of love for me but I also never held my breath. What I did know is I carried the hope and love in my being. In my heart however deep it was by now, but it was still there. After all that had happened I still wanted his acceptance and grasped to the smallest fibers around me to see if that could happen. I quit my salad job for the summer and stayed home to care for him. It would seem that I would end up being all he had in his final days. My ma would go out with the girls after work to prolong coming home. Ahhh, she had a lot to deal with and I didn't judge her at all, not ever. So, it would be him and I.
The first thing he did was steal my brother's car, I say that because he literally got in it and drove away. So far away that he ended up in Florida. Hmmm, who knew it was one of his life's destination areas. He went all the way there from Ohio, bought two souvinors turned around and drove back. He was getting rather weak at this time and luckily a man on a motorcycle noticed him and noticed he didn't look well and followed him most of the way. Yah, we do have caring people out there. Just a nice thought indeed.
By the time he got back though his health was going down quickly. This was cancer and it was an education for sure to see how it will eat you literally alive. He would have to be set up in the downstairs area now. The stairs would be to much for him to handle. Odors were off limits, such as foods cooking, finger nail polish.... everything made him sick to eat or smell. Ahhhhh but him and I did find one thing we could cook and he would be able to eat and like it. That would be homemade chocolate pudding. And we made it daily.
He liked to watch wrestling a lot and I was there to help cheer on the guys we liked. It wasn't big things, not big things at all. But it was the moments as small as they may have been and for however long we were going to have them is what made the difference. Well to me it would. I am hopeful it did to him as well.
But, ha ha ha, my Pa was my Pa and no matter how sick he was it seemed I had a knack to piss him off. And that unimaginable strenghth that he would pull from some where within him would surface. Ok, so here is what I did. It was 1973, and everybody knows about the bell bottom era. For me, it remains my favorite times. I wore my bell bottoms full and long. Yep, walking on them for sure. Well, this one day he happened to take a look at what I was wearing and because totally upset with my pants and demanded I cut them off shorter. Ohhhhhhhhhh please, this is the 70's for one thing, I bought them myself for another and I was not about to cut them ankle high. But, I did do just as he asked. I cut them. I cut them into shorts and not knicker shorts either. Ok, Ok yes, I was rebellious and I am going to say right now, IT FELT GOOD !!
Poor Pa though, he did not like this either. Would I ever get it right with him? So, he sees my new shorts and totally freaks out. Yelling profusely !! "What did you do?" Of course my reply was I did what you told me to. Hmmmm, some where deep inside of him he got the energy to chase me. Not real sure what his plan was when he caught me but could only go on the records from the past. This time though I had a running chance and I took it. I ran out the front door and there is was right behind me. I ran around to the back door and inside the house and I could hear him coming behind me. I did this a few more times and got ahead of him and then hid under the dining room table. Hmmmmm, I stayed there and watched as he continued running in one door and out the other after me until he was worn out and finally stopped. This might sound mean to others but for me it felt rather good.
To Be Continued ...................
Love, "Patches"
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