When One Door Closes...

Being back in Denver is bittersweet.  It's so wonderful to be back in my own bed, not living out of a suitcase, and having the welcome distraction of everyday normalities like working, paying bills, and sorting through the mail.  But, on the other hand, being all alone in the house where I last saw my dad alive has been heartbreaking.  I walked around the house last night after a busy day of running errands and spent hours looking at every picture we have of him.  So many wonderful memories.

But, like the saying goes, "When one door closes, another one opens" or my personal favorite, "Everything happens for a reason."  So, I've been trying to search for the reasoning behind the suffering and pain that our family has been through over the last year and have finally come up with something.  I'm going to borrow an idea that was brought up by a family member and we're going to start an annual race to raise funds to help others that are seeking alternative treatments for their cancer.

 It is well known that my dad passed away while in Mexico for alternative treatments.  They weren't experimental as all the newspapers and television reports stated; they were progressive.  If you Google anything related to alternative cancer treatment centers, millions of results will appear including hundreds of locations in and out of the US that treat cancer using methods that the FDA won't approve.  These centers have treated and saved hundreds of thousands of patients...the majority with Stage 4 cancers.  My dad tried two of them in his quest to find a cure for the rare and very swiftly moving cancer that he was diagnosed with.  He contacted and researched several others.  These centers were the only ones that gave my dad even the smallest chance of living- everyone else told him he would die.  So, we tried them.  And, although he isn't with us today, he did end up living 6 months longer than traditional medicine said he would.  That, to me, is a small success.

In 2011 1,596,670 people in the US are expected to be diagnosed with cancer of one form or another.  Cancer is now one of the top two causes of death, ranking right up there with heart disease.  It is expected to kill 571,950 people which equates to about 1,500 a day!  If alternative treatments are able to give some of these patients hope, a better quality of life, and possibly a chance at survival, what's there to lose?  However, these treatments don't come cheap and because the FDA won't approve some of them because of lack of research (and greed---just my opinion), many of them aren't covered by insurance.  Going to Mexico to have a chance at a future was the one thing that gave my dad hope until the very end.  If I can help, even a little bit, to give others the chance at that same hope, then that's what I'll do.

So, look for more blogs and details about the race we're setting up for this wonderful cause.  Plans are already in the works and I can't wait to see the fruits of our labor when it's all over and we have helped make someone's life a little bit easier while fighting such an unbeatable foe.

Happy Birthday

As with any loss of a loved one, people have all sorts of different beliefs and ideas of where their souls went and when, or if, we will see them again.  Everyone has been more than willing to share their individual beliefs with us over the past two weeks and I find it so interesting to hear about how differently people look at death and life after.
For example, a dear friend of ours wrote me this morning to tell me of her Cherokee beliefs.  The Native Americans have many spiritual and supernatural beliefs and when someone dies, they believe that, for a short time, they come back as a bird.  As she was sitting in her home today and reading the birthday card she had planned on sending my dad, a red bird appeared at her window and began pecking at the glass.  It continued for a while until she said to it, "Is that you Dinger?  If so, Happy Birthday!" and then it flew away.  It is nice to think that he is back to visit us for a bit, in whatever form.
Many people have told us that he is in Heaven and that we will be reunited with him again someday.  I like to imagine that for his birthday today, he booked a 7 am tee time and has been playing a few rounds with other friends and family members that have passed.  Its so healing to think that those that have passed will be reunited with us once again in a better place and I love feeling that my dad had a few friendly faces to welcome him home.
Other people believe that the dead are laid to rest, literally, and that they will continue sleeping until the next coming of Jesus on Earth.  At this time, they will raise to be judged, rejoin with their families, and will walk the Earth in paradise.  Just in case, we dressed him in his t-shirt from his trip to Agusta, his golf shoes, and his golfing glove so when he awakes he can start right in with his next golf game :-)
Regardless of what the belief is,  I know that it gives me solace to feel that my father is in a better place and no longer suffering- no matter where it is, or what form his spirit takes.

Today my dad would've turned 59.  Instead of filling out a card with birthday wishes, I am sitting down on this gloomy day to write a goodbye letter to my him to put in his coffin.  I wasn't able to say goodbye to him in person before he passed so getting my feelings on paper and giving it to him now is the next best that I can do.  On Friday, the 30th, my family was spread out all over the country...my parents were in Mexico getting treatment for my dad, my brother was in Texas visiting friends, and I was working in Colorado.  I never get service at one of my schools so I had left my phone in the car that day- big mistake.  While desperately trying to find a way to get my dad back to the United States before he passed, my mom had called me several times in the early afternoon to get me on a plane to come be with them.  I didn't get the message until 3:30 and she wanted me in San Diego by 6.  I went straight to the airport and felt like all the stars were aligned perfectly when a nice lady at Frontier helped me get a flight at 4:30 that would land a bit before 6.  I prayed the entire way to San Diego for the Lord not to take him until I could arrive and felt like my prayers were answered when we landed 15 minutes earlier than expected.  Unfortunately, he had passed away as soon as my flight took off and the text I sent him telling him how much I loved him never got received.  So hopefully this letter will bring some closure to the guilt that I feel for not being there during his last moments on Earth.

After popping open a bottle of my dad's favorite sparkling wine and toasting his short, but incredibly blessed life on this birthday that he never got to celebrate, we are looking forward to reuniting with our family in a few hours.  This weekend will be our closure of two weeks of planning, mourning, and remembering.  Happy Birthday Dad.

Let the Healing Begin

It's been a week now since my dad passed away.  It doesn't seem like it's been that long.  I can still remember every single detail of what happened a week ago just like it was yesterday.  It plays over and over like a movie in my head every time I try to fall asleep, every time I wake up, every time I do anything that reminds me of time spent with him (which is everything here in Nashville).

We have been trying to start the healing process.  It's coming along very, very slowly.  Our minds just seem to be somewhere else right now, evidenced by the times we have left the car running in the parking lot while heading into a building, forgotten to do things that needed to be done, and "lost" items that are right in front of us (or, in the case of my mother's glasses, right on your head).  It's a process to get back to "normal" life and I know it's going to take a while but we are doing the best we can one day at a time.

So far we have done our share of crying, being angry, wondering "why", and laughing at the good times.  A few things have helped us take the first baby step:

Music- for the celebration of life we are holding, we had to choose a playlist of songs to coordinate with a slideshow of pictures of my dad that will be playing.  Remembering the smile that would come across his face when listening to Alan Jackson, The Temptations, James Taylor, The Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, and Kenny Chesney helped us feel like he was right there with us and brought back wonderful memories of summer nights spent on the back porch of our house in Colorado or car trips with music blasting and us singing (or screaming) at the top of our lungs.  Several of the songs made us laugh or made us cry, but they all reminded us of better times spent with him.  It's amazing how music can evoke such emotion and bring up certain memories.

Pictures- to create the slide show we had family members and friends send us pictures of my dad at various stages of his life.  Some of the pictures I had never seen!  It was so wonderful to see my father as a young boy, then as a teenager, and to share all of the stories that came with each photo.  We sorted through pictures for two days and narrowed it down to almost 100 pictures that will be included in his slide show.  With the cancer being our focus of our lives for the last 10 months, it's sometimes difficult to remember what my dad looked like before shedding his hair and almost 100 pounds.  These pictures have been a welcome reminder of who he was for the majority of my life.

My dad's Senior picture

Distractions- The weather here in Nashville has been absolutely beautiful lately.  I cannot imagine having to mourn while being stuck inside on a cloudy, rainy day so I am so thankful that we have had sunny, 80+ degree days to distract us.  We have gotten out of the house and taken several day trips to try and get our minds off of things.  Thank goodness Nashville is entrenched with so much history and offers so much to see and do!  Although every place we have been to reminds us, it is nice to get out of the house and focus on something other than funeral planning for a few hours.

The Hermitage

 On Thursday, Tim and I drove down to Franklin and visited the Carter House.  This house was the center of the Battle of Franklin and still has evidence of over 1,000 bullet holes from the fight that took place right in their front yard.  We continued the historical house touring on Friday with my mom and Bonnie by visiting the Hermitage which was Andrew Jackson's plantation.  The grounds there are so beautiful with peaceful gardens and spacious lawns and it gave us a chance to sit in the grass for a bit under the shade of a tree and talk about my dad.  

Natchez Trace Pkwy Bridge

Yesterday we took off down the Natchez Trace Parkway (so beautiful with all the fall colors) and took advantage of the 85-mile garage sale that was being held.  It's amazing what other people will try to sell- old glass coke bottles, bibs that hadn't been washed, half empty perfume bottles, and even some old, rusted hub caps.  Needless to say, we walked away empty-handed...unless you count the lemonade that we bought from the little guys that had set up a stand.  We drove about 1/4 of the way down the 85 mile loop and made a pit-stop at Puckett's grocery store on our way home.  Puckett's is a Tennessee landmark located in Lieper's Fork; a small grocery store that doubles as a restaurant and live music venue.  From the honor-system check out (just pick out what you want, eat it, and then tell them what you had when you leave), to the fried bologna sandwiches that my grandfather loves so much, to the live country music, it really evokes a small town feel when you step inside the store.

We are very much looking forward to having all of our loved ones here on next week to celebrate his life but until then, we have made a goal to do one fun thing each day to get out and focus on other things.  As my mom says, we have fought cancer 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for the last 10 months and we're looking forward to not letting it, or the outcome of it, take over our lives any more. 

A Life Worth Living

The last few days have been some of the most trying of my life.  In the interest of trying to cope with our loss, I'm going to try to get out my thoughts without giving too many details in order to keep the privacy of my family. 
My dad was an amazing person.  He accomplished more in his 58 years of life than most people are able to in a lifetime.  He worked his way from high school history teaching and football coaching through the ranks of college teams and into the pros.  I always admired his ability to dedicate himself to his career and his dreams and to push through tough times to accomplish everything he wanted to.  It wasn't always easy and we all sacrificed along the way but what I will always remember and appreciate most about my dad is the fact that he never lost sense of who he was along his journey. 

Probably more well-known for his tough exterior than his sensitive heart, I was one of the few lucky ones that was able to know the true heart of my dad.  The picture that most get to see is one of his colorful language and gruff coaching style while on the football field or the temper that earned him the loving nick-name of "killer mike" amongst a small group of us kids.  But I knew the real Mike.  I knew the man that would do anything to attend every single football game that my brother played.  I knew the man that would pass up lucrative jobs to allow me to finish high school in one place.  I knew the man who never lost track of or was ashamed of his faith in God and I knew the man that was humble and loyal-sometimes to a fault.  I knew the man that was never too busy to help someone in need, never too busy to tell us how proud we made him or how much he loved us.  He loved country music, golfing, football, going to movies, and his family.  He was the greatest man I have ever known and I will forever be greatful for all of the memories and love that we were able to share over the last 29 years. 

On Friday, we lost him.  After being diagnosed with a rare form of cancer on the day before Thanksgiving last year, we have lived with and fought his disease alongside him for almost 10 months.  We were told that only 2% of patients with this disease will live longer than 4 months so, in some ways, we consider the extra 6 months that we were able to spend with him a blessing.  He fought harder than anyone has ever fought and we can honestly say that, at the end of the day, we tried absolutely EVERYTHING we could to help him.  We had hoped that he would make it to his 59th birthday- but the Lord took him 13 days too early.  We just ran out of time.  Maybe, someday, I'll start blogging about the things we tried to help him- the changes in diet, the things we learned about the causes of his disease, and the amazing stories and people that have touched our lives along the way.  I'm sure that the knowledge we have gained through this experience can, and will, help someone or someone they love.  But that'll be for another time...

For now we are focusing on the good times.  The memories.  The healing.  Focusing on planning a funeral to celebrate the man that has touched so many lives.  The outpouring of support for my family has been absolutely amazing.  Friends from all phases of his life, players from as far back as his high school days, family members that we only get to catch up with once every year, and fans from all aspects of his career have come out of the woodwork to support us and cover us in love and prayer.  We have had meals, cards, flowers, edible arrangements, planning help, donations, and more texts, phone calls, emails, and Facebook messages than I could possibly respond to in a lifetime.  I feel so blessed to have been a part of such a wonderful support system and group of faith-based people that can help us remember my father for the strong man he was- not the cancer patient he has been this past year. 

I hope it's true that time heals all wounds.  It's also comforting to think that he's looking over us and walking along side us as we continue living our lives.  Knowing that he's no longer in pain gives me peace and will help us get through this tough time.  In the meantime, I will continue looking at the pictures and accepting the hugs, phone calls, and texts and knowing that I can see my father every time I look at myself in the mirror.

RIP Dad, I'll miss you, I love you, and I'll see you soon...

10-13-52 to 9-30-11

With Kenny Chesney- July 2011