Memories

Memories are interesting. They can be good or bad, happy or sad, and sometimes they can be very painful. You can't erase memories, they are just there, floating in and out of thoughts. Today I am having painful memories. A year ago, on the Tuesday of this week, my Dad had brain surgery. The surgeon was going to remove as much as possible of a glioblastoma, an aggressive form of brain cancer. He had been diagnosed two days before on my sister's birthday, April 11, 2010. His illness took us by surprise and was so unexpected. I guess a person can never prepare for this kind of tragedy. It just came, whether we wanted it to or not, whether we were ready to deal with it or not. My memories of his surgery day are difficult. I wish they weren't so prominent in my mind today. I don't like remembering the intense pain he suffered when he woke up from surgery. That is a memory I wish we all could forget. Whenever it creeps in, I try to push it back out. I don't want to remember his suffering. I remember driving home late that night from the hospital, with two of my sisters. We couldn't stop crying. We kept saying the words over and over, "Dad has brain cancer," trying somehow to make ourselves accept it. The words felt to difficult to bear.

It's hard to believe one year has come and gone since that terrible day. In some ways, because the memories are still so clear, it seems it can't possibly be that long. In other ways, it feels like forever. We don't get to pick our trials. I witnessed that with my dad's cancer, you can't escape them either. Sometimes people are healed, but, most of the time they probably aren't. We can choose how we face challenges and how we endure them. One of the blessings that my dad gave to me, that I am most grateful for, is the memory of how he chose to handle his final trial. I let that memory come to me often. It has helped me to want to be a better person and not complain as much as I usually do. It helps me to try to be brave when I don't feel strong. It helps me to know that one day, no matter how intense the pain might be, it will go away. There is a healing time for all suffering. My dad has been gone now for almost seven months. Not a day goes by where I don't look at his picture and remember him. Not a day goes by where I don't miss him and wish I could have one more chance to tell him how much I love him.