It was a Spring morning in 1994 when we received the call to come by the hospital because dad had choked on a piece of steak the night before. Although the choking was no longer an immediate concern, the throat swelling that preceded the choking needed to be addressed.
That afternoon, we received the official word that dad had a "growth in his throat" - most likely cancer. Standing there with my mother as the doctors discussed possible treatments (and life expectancy) was surreal. I thought we were going to the hospital to laugh with dad about his poor chewing habits!
To my dad, the news of having cancer was devastating. My dad - 6'3" and 250 lbs of a man gave up in minutes. He was adamant - no treatments. Let me die. Feelings that many in the same situation probably experience. After a few days, the fight was back.
A few weeks later, after a visit to MD Anderson, we found out how severity and aggressiveness of the cancer. As I like to say now, it was "cancer of the everything."
At that point, we had two choices. Give up or Go forward.
My dad and I were fortunate in that we had the next 6 months to do the things that had been placed on hold for whatever reason. We went to that ballgame - you know the one that was too far away last week. And we talked. We toured the Astrodome - you know that thing you don't really want to do. And we talked. He would hold my daughter on his lap. And we talked.
In the Fall of 1994, the end came quickly. He died when his heart failed in the parking lot of MD Anderson. My dad passed away.
That few minutes of choking on a piece of steak created six months of an opportunity to say good bye. I had closure. I had No Regrets.
And we still talk.
I miss you dad.
Happy Father's Day
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