Angry..Sad..

Today, December 13th, 2016, is my Dad's birthday! Is it though? When someone dies does the day of their birth become insignificant, overtaken by the day of their death?

If my Dad was still alive, he would have turned 74 today. 74 in this day and age doesn't seem old to me. I joke about your 70's being 'middle-aged', partially to help me feel younger at almost 50, but with reflection now, today, on my Dad's birthday, it seems that 74 really is no age.

Did he have a good and fulfilling life - I guess so. Father to 3 daughters of which I am the eldest, Grandfather to 8 grandchildren (6 granddaughters, and 2 grandsons), Husband to my Mum for 50 years. He had a successful career and worked hard to provide for his family. We had great camping holidays in France when I was growing up and lived for a few years in another country. We were less dysfunctional than so many of my friends family's - or so it seemed. I guess that all adds up to a full life.

It was roughly 8 years ago that my Dad was first diagnosed with Cancer. Bowel or Colon cancer to be precise. He had a tumor the size of a tennis ball ,he was told, and he started a course of radiation treatments to shrink that sucker as much as possible before he had surgery. His tumor was positioned directly behind his prostate, so they were able to knock that as well with the radiation - and thank heavens for radiation because they might not have discovered the prostate were it not for that. The surgery went well and Dad had an ileostomy bag for 6 months, but then his surgeon was able to reverse it which meant he wasn't stuck with a bag forever! The bowel cancer was gone, but the prostate cancer had spread to his lymph nodes and from there it was on a super highway to where ever it wanted to go. I think in total over his 8 year battle with cancer, Dad did 8 courses of chemotherapy - each course being 10 treatments, one every 3 weeks. There were also intermittent sessions of radiation to hit key problem areas. For the most part, Dad took everything in his stride and kept pretty positive, but then he fell on the stairs and broke his neck. Flat on his back in hospital for weeks, Dad received the news that that superhighway of his lymph nodes had taken cancer right to Dad's spine. He had bone cancer and that was why he had broken his neck when he fell. They were able to hit his C1 and C2 with radiation and that calcified the cancer in the bone and actually made those discs pretty strong, but it had also spread to his ribs and to his hips. Bone cancer is obviously female, and obviously a total bitch because it is hugely painful and shows no remorse for the damage she causes. Suddenly Dad was taking additional steroids and then morphine for the pain.

I think that ultimately he made a conscious decision that he had reached his saturation point. A radiation treatment to nerves in his hips gave him some pain relief and a real hike in his steroid dose gave him some much-needed energy and he had a fabulous weekend with my Mum, my youngest sister, her children and her partner. He was able to eat foods he hadn't eaten for years, he went to watch rugby and he really had a great time with my nieces. Then after they left, he stopped eating and was hardly drinking. A conscious decision it seems to me. He went downhill, and fast that next weekend, Mum said she thought they would be ok, but my middle sister and I made the decision that we would fly back home in a few days time, so we could spend some time with Dad. That was the Friday. Saturday morning Mum rang early, and said the words I never thought would come "you need to be here now". Over 4 thousand miles from home, I needed to get there, like yesterday! My husband, bless him got on the phone and got me on a flight into Manchester via Chicago that day. I don't remember exactly what happened between that call from Mum and my getting to the airport. All I remember was my flight being delayed, and delayed and delayed, and me wondering what the hell I had done to be being punished like this. I needed to be home and I couldn't get there. 5 hours late we finally took off for Chicago, and then I had a 3-hour layover before my flight from Chicago into Manchester. I wouldn't have gotten through that 5-hour wait if it hadn't been for a wonderful man who chose to speak to me, and who realising my pain, kept talking to me the whole time we were delayed. Turns out this man was/is Pastor William Henderson, Billy as he introduced himself. He kept me focused and calm when every inch of me wanted to scream and shout and create. I will always be grateful to Billy for that day. We exchanged phone numbers and have since become friends on Facebook. Billy had been in Arkansas visiting friends, and should have been driving back to his home in Kentucky, but, because he needed to be home sooner than the drive would allow, he had chosen to fly instead of drive. Our flight delay meant that he was never going to get home when he needed to and ironically, had he of stayed with his original plan of driving back home, he would have been there much sooner than he was now going to be. Had he of driven, he would not have been there in the airport, waiting at a gate, where I was and where I needed his help. I have always said things happen for a reason, and that day I was in need of help and support and Billy was there to provide it. Like I said, I will be forever grateful to him - he kept me sane and reassured me that I would make it home in time for my Dad. He was right. I should have arrived home at 8am on Sunday, but with all the delays it was actually around 5pm in the evening. My Dad was unconscious but even so, he definitely reacted to the sound of my voice, and along with my Mum and my sisters, I sat with him and talked to him. At a little after 9pm that night, with us all there, my Dad took his last breath and passed over into whatever follows this life. I don't believe in a heaven, but I do believe in Karma and reincarnation and I hope that my Dad has been reborn as a wonderful oak tree and will continue to grow and live in his next life for hundreds of years, and be strong and sturdy. For me this is the best possible next life and one I hope to have been good enough for Karma to grant me this when my time comes.

My Mum & Dad earlier this year on the ir 50th Wedding Anniversary

That was September 18th this year, so today on his birthday my Dad has been gone for nearly 3 months - no time at all, and I feel cheated and angry.....and sad. I have said it over and over - I have a perfectly good ex-husband who was abusive and who has caused so much pain to other people - he would have been a far better candidate for death than my Dad. My Dad was a good man who worked hard and never cheated anyone - we didn't always see eye to eye, we were far too alike for that! But what did he do to deserve 8 years of pain and suffering with his cancer, when my complete bastard of an abusive ex, is living his life still. Why does he deserve to live when my Dad doesn't? I don't really wish my ex was dead, but equally I really wish my Dad was not dead. At what point in life is there ever any real justice. This past year alone, I know of far too many good people who have been dealt a shit hand, and too many shit people who continue on without retribution or remorse for their wrongdoings.

....and people wonder why I have such a hard time believing in God and such an easy time being thankful for Mother Nature and the world around me. The one lets me down every single time and the other has never ever let me down. On days like today, it's an easy choice.