On November 14th 2008 I was returning home from a three day business trip. I boarded the plane exhausted and thinking about nothing but sleeping the whole way home. While waiting to take off I asked my seat mate the perfunctory “so are you headed home today?” The answer to this question allows me to decide if I am sitting next to a talker or a non-talker. It does not really matter which type of person I am sitting next to, it just changes my strategy in dealing with the person.
My seat mates on this day turned out to be an older couple from Fond du Lac, Wisconsin. I learned quite quickly that the wife was a talker. She actually reminded me a great deal of my own mother. They had been in Las Vegas for the wedding of a nephew a week earlier and then had visited friends in Northern Nevada before returning home on the same flight as me.
She and I chatted on and off throughout the flight and shared information about our families. She learned that my father had been living with multiple myeloma for five and a half years. When diagnosed at the age of 79 he was given 2-5 years of life surviving with this progressive and incurable form of cancer.
Just seven days earlier I had dined with my wife and parents and he seemed to be responding to his newest treatment quite well. As well as he appeared to be doing, It was becoming clear that he might not be able to live out his final days at home as he wished. For the short-term at least, he seemed to be doing quite well. He was more lucid and in good humor than I had seen him in months.
So, when the plane landed and upon turning on my phone I saw that I had three voicemails the last thing on my mind was anything related to my Dad. I immediately thought of the two teenagers at home alone since my wife had headed out on her own trip earlier in the day. This late on a Friday I was pretty sure the news would not be good but I was by no means expecting to learn that my father had passed away peacefully as I flew home.
Upon listening to the first voicemail I took a deep breath and said ‘oh no.’ The kind compassionate woman next to me immediately sensed a problem and asked if there was anything she could do. From some people this would be almost offensive – from her it was so appreciated I have no words. It took listening to two more voicemails and making three phone calls before I had confirmation he was gone.
Her touch on my shoulder and kind words of assurance that he had surely lived a long and happy life really helped at a moment that I felt fine but knew for sure I was not. The emotion and tears would not come for almost twelve more hours, but she knew at that moment something even I did not. Surviving the death of a parent will not happen without emotion for anyone.
At first writing this happened two days ago, but I know in my heart I will thank God until my final days for making this kind compassionate woman from Fond du Lac my seat mate on this particular day.
Note: This was written two years ago, forgotten about and recently found. I have edited the original text slightly for clarity and grammar. I share it today as a tribute to my Father and a reminder to love your parents while they are still here.
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