It was the summer from hell. It started on Memorial Day.
A tearful call from my mom … she said they were OK.
But the their home for many years — it was on fire.
It was caused by a fan that had a faulty wire.
What would they do? I flew to Chicago to help them find an answer.
Complicating matters was my dad’s spreading cancer.
We consulted with insurance, they set them up in a hotel.
But not used to his surroundings, my dad got out of bed and fell.
For the rest of the summer, a nursing home is where he’d live.
It wasn’t what we wanted, but without a home there was no alternative.
Living out of luggage, my mom spent hours bedside visiting her spouse,
While juggling insurance and reconstruction of their house.
Keeping my dad in the loop every step of the way,
Making it handicap accessible so in his home he could stay.
But he increasingly grew weak, they hospitalized him to be cautious.
The cancer was spreading so fast, the only place to go was hospice.
On Sept. 20, 2014, I got the call I’d come to dread.
My Ninong was on the phone to tell me my dad was dead.
I had braced for this moment for more than 10 years.
But all that preparation didn’t stop the tears.
Dad was sick for so long, but his will you couldn’t bend.
He beat death many times, but cancer was his end.
A few days after his funeral, while we were still all very sad
Their home was finally ready, but it was weird without my dad.
Looking at his handicap-accessible room, which he never would see.
I felt a breadth of emotions sweeping over me.
Hard to believe it’s been two years, the time really flew.
I still think about him every day. Dad, I really miss you.