Tomorrow is Father’s Day. And on this Father’s Day weekend my precious father is laying in a hospital bed at St. Francis. He’s been there for a week now, this trip — between the stays at hospitals and rehab centers, he hasn’t been at his home since March 31, almost four months ago. I say he hasn’t been home, but he will tell you where he lives is not “home”, although he likes living at Georgetown and can’t wait to get back there. Dad had to sell his “home” two years ago, after living there for 50 years, raising his family, working hard to support them and then retiring to enjoy his “free time” — free time that he never really had, because he was always too busy volunteering everywhere. He spent his days at the church, doing whatever needed done, and for whoever it needed done for. He volunteered for Red Cross, driving people to doctor appointments, delivering blood to other cities and towns, dispatching other drivers. If you needed something done, you called Doug Depew! My dad lived his life doing things for other people. He was married to my mother for a little over 48 years, until her death in 1997. Dad became her caregiver and took over most of the household chores after her stroke. He was married again, and although I have always had mixed feelings about this marriage, dad was happy, so I was happy for him. He buried his second wife in May of 2011. You know how when you are little you think your dad is a hero? Then you become one of those obnoxious teenagers and you think your dad doesn’t know anything. Well, now that I’m all grown up, I’m back to the hero version of my thinking. No, I know he’s not perfect, and he drives me crazy sometimes, but he’s my hero. He can’t leap over buildings and rescue the damsel in distress like you typically think of when you think of heroes (I would be thrilled if he could just roll over in bed by himself without the help of a nurse, let alone leap over a building!), but he is a hero anyway. He has so many strikes against him, kidney failure, neuropathy, congestive heart failure, etc……. but he doesn’t ever give up. I thought we had lost my dad earlier this week, that he finally couldn’t hang on any longer. But not my dad. He somehow has pulled through, and even though he’s not in great shape, he’s here. And I thank God every time I can walk into that hospital room, and see my daddy. It has really hit me the last couple of months, that this is not always going to be the case, and possibly sooner than later. But I will cherish everyday I have with him and every night when I lay my head on my pillow I thank God we had one more day. Happy Father’s Day, daddy! I love you so much. You are my hero.
Posted on: Sat, 15 Jun 2013 20:57:09 +0000
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