Around four weeks ago I was sitting in the library like the good nerd that I am, when Tina came barreling up to my table, eyes wet, saying "We have to go. We have to go now."
A few days prior, her dad had went to the doctor due to neck pain. We were told it was arthritis. Thirty-six hours later, we were told it was cancer. Tina was at work doing her normal thing, her only worry was hoping that she finished in time to come pick me up before the library closed. But then her phone rang and everything changed. "Your dad has stage 4 bone cancer. In addition, there is a tumor on his brain, as well as cancer in his lungs. Call the family and have your preparations ready."
One thing I have learned is that cancer knows no particular victim. Old, young, black, white; it doesn't care. For years, Tina and I have supported St. Jude's. And every year she donates her hair to locks-of-love, trying to help in our own way. But now we are seeing the effects of this cruel and vicious disease first hand and it undoubtedly breaks your soul.
The first week was a whirlwind of doctors, nurses, and days being spent at the hospital. The next week was spent at hospice and going back and forth to radiation treatments. And while hospice was phenomenal and contained a top-notch staff, her dad wants to pass away at home. However, his home was not an option due to his around the clock care. Thus we compromised and purchased a 35ft camper, placing it in our backyard. This way he still has his privacy, a beautiful view of the mountains, and peace with his children close by.
Death is inevitable for all of us but I guess it's when you are given a definite timeline, the reality of our demise body slams your conscious. Questions begin: Is there anything I still want to do? Is there anyone I need to tell I love you to? What really happens when I die?
We are forced to begin morbid plans of funerals, epitaphs, and eulogies.
Tina is fortunate in the fact that she has had a good daddy. It takes her only seconds to recall a plethora of memories involving her being hoisted upon shoulders, being taught about nature, or being simply loved by her father. And while she is close emotionally to her mother, Tina has inherited her father's height, his dark features, and his uncanny skill set for building things. They are both incredibly shy, yet are so caring and loving, that they are the peacemakers of the Gragg family. He has taught her to say only kind words, dispense positivity in everything, and to find joy in the little things. Her daddy has never been a man of wealth or materialistic items. Instead, he has showered his children with the only thing he did have: intangible feelings of hope, family, and love. I have yet to find a relative (and he has a ton) to say one negative word about this man who has opened his door every time someone has knocked.
His wishes have become our wishes. If he wants fruit cocktail or strawberry boost at 2am, then that's what he gets. And because he asked us one evening if I would write something on the "internet thing" for him, that is what I'm doing.
In Terry Gragg's words: "Before I die, I would like to ask forgiveness from anyone that I have ever wronged or offended in any way during my life. Truly, from the bottom of my heart, I am sorry. When you are young you do stupid things and make many mistakes. When you are older and facing your own mortality, you realize these things and you want to right any wrongs that you have done. I also want to say thank you to all of the family and friends that have loved and supported me throughout my life. I appreciate and love each and every one of you."
The doctors have given Terry a prognosis of only a few months to live. Each day he is weaker and more frail. It took him almost an hour to get out those sentences he has asked for me to post. Simply put, he is running out of mortal time.
A go fund me website ( http://www.gofundme.com/f6xk8g ) has been set up to pay for the costs of what will be Terry's funeral as he did not have an insurance policy in place. And while contributions are received graciously, the main point of this blog is to walk away with a dying man's words.
None of us are guaranteed tomorrow or even the next hour. Tell people that you love them. Show kindness. And just simply be grateful for time.
