My father, Larry, died on February 23, 1998 from cancer complications. He was 46 years old. He left behind a wife, Angela, and two children; myself and my brother, Kyle. He is deeply missed by brothers and sisters the late Gloria Pauli, Clifton Rea, Sylvia Kelly, the late Diane Acres, Dennis Rea, Paul Rea, Philip Rea, Linda Rousseau and the late Winston Rea. He is also missed by many nieces, nephews and friends.
What can one say to make others know what kind of man the world has lost? My father was a very humble man. He attended church regularly, he enjoyed chatting with anyone who had time to spare, he loved collecting hockey cards and watching his Maple Leafs on the tv. He was happy with what life gave him and thankful for it. He wasn't selfish in the least bit. Each Christmas, he wouldn't ask for much. Just for a bottle of aftershave, which I always made sure was under the tree, even though I knew he'd shake the box ahead of time and discover the contents within. He was loving. He never forgot a family members birthday or a special ocassion. He took time to talk to the less fortunate. At school, he would talk to the students in the challenged class, when no body else had time to talk. He was himself, and didn't change for anybody.
Here is the story of what happened to my father.
In July of 1997, dad started to have terribly painful headaches. He went to the doctors, and of course, they said they'd run some tests and see what was going on. They found a small tumor by his pituitary gland. It was also pinching his optic nerve, so they removed the tumor so he wouldn't go blind. I remember the quote that one of the medical staff said at the hospital after the surgery. "This is a benign tumor. It has a 99.9% chance of not being malignant and everything being ok."
Come September, dad started to have vision problems again. Before school one morning, he fell. Mom took him to the clinic and they said that all of the tumor had not been removed and that it had increased in size a bit. Radiation treatments were necessary for a few months. Since dad couldn't drive (because of his vision) and mom had work, we had to depend on the kindess of relatives, friends of dad and the Canadian Cancer Society to get him to London for each treatment.
Treatments finished and dad was feeling pretty good. He was eating again and getting out and about. These are the memories which I want to keep forever.. he was back to being dad. He still couldn't go to work, cuz he still couldn't see very well. He came back for the last day before Christmas break though. I remember seeing him just as I went into the gym for the assembly. I thought that things would be back to normal soon and life would be the same. Christmas came too. I was a big help to daddy. We went shopping together all the time because I knew what mom liked and helped him pick out things that smelled nice and looked nice. We went to the Elizabethian restaurant, which I hadn't been to for years, and I got an orange pop, just like the old days. That was my last Christmas with him. Think I took any photos? Of course not. How was I supposed to know. :(
January came and dad started to be sick after each meal again. I knew something was up. I think mom was in denial though. Dad didn't say anything though. He just kept quiet about it all. Then one day at school, Kyle came up to me and told me that dad had been taken to London. That was all I knew. He went to Reach for the Top, so when mom came home and asked why I was crying and where dad was, what was I to say? I had NO clue! So poor mom called up everyone she knew and finally, the secretary, Mrs. McInally at school, knew where he was. Mom called the hospital where he was at and finally talked to him. Turns out that he had a tumor in his neck that was causing the pain this time.
Just 2 weeks after all of this happened, my family had the talk. Influenza had been going around the school so things were a little hectic. Mom pulled Kyle and I into the living room for a talk. I can't remember everything said because I keep trying to block things out of my head. Mom said that dad had cancer... many cancerous tumors throughout his body. Only 34 other people in the world had this type of cancer. Dad wasn't going to make it. He'd live (at the minimum) another 3-4 months, but he probably wouldn't last over a year. A couple days later, mom asked us if the decision she made was ok with us. She gave the doctors the DNR order. (Do not resuscitate)
The next few weeks were the hardest weeks of my life. I lived every day knowing my dad was dying. I was sick, I wasn't eating much, my school work was suffering... I didn't know how to deal with this. I avoided the hospital. I only saw my dad once after finding out that he was going to die. I barely talked to him. :(
Only 2 weeks after we found out that dad wasn't going to make it, it happened. On the 22nd of February, we got a call saying that dad was having problems breathing. He had developed a blood clot in his lungs because he couldn't get up and move around. We went to London, stayed for most of the day with family and then Kyle and I were sent home to get some rest for school the next day. At around 11 pm, we got a call from my uncle Ed telling us to come back down to London... dad wasn't expected to make it through the night. So we drove. I remembering listening to the song "Hurt" by NIN while driving down the bare streets of London at 12:30 am. I've never felt more lost and alone. We got to the hospital and up to the room. I remember everything I felt and said. I felt sick and dizzy. I just wanted to drop to my knees. At one point, dad stopped breathing and I panicked. I wasn't ready to let go! He started breathing again though. We said our good-byes. I didn't know what I should say! So I said to him, "I love you daddy. Take care in heaven." That is the most painful sentence I've had to say.
I tried to stay up for the rest of the time, but I couldn't. I kept falling asleep right by his bedside. Finally mom and aunt Mary made me go to the lounge to sleep. I had one of those sleeps where you have no dreams, but you know what's going on around you at all times. I was woken at 6:29am (on the 23rd) by a nurse saying "Your mom wants you. Your dad is passing." I hurried to get my shoes on and ran to the room..... it was too late. My dad died at 6:30 am........
There are so many memories that come back every so often. Sometimes without even knowing it, I'll be writing in my diary and be having a conversation almost with him, even though he's not answering. I'll ask questions, say things I wish I would've said sooner.
I believe he's watching me though. One night, a month after he died, I woke up for no apparent reason in the night. As I was trying to get back to sleep, I heard something. "Heather...." it said. It sounded EXACTLY like dad. I wasn't afraid or anything.... I felt at peace. That was his way of showing me that he's ok now. :)
I'm sorry if you find this page to be a waste of cyberspace or a silly sob story, but I find it comforting release all of this. It also lets others know my mistakes of how I should've said this.. and should've done that, and now I can't. Thank you for reading this.
Daddy, I'm sorry for all the pain I caused you in life. I'm sorry for all the times I was mean to you and didn't do as I was told. But most of all, I'm sorry for wishing that you would die. I didn't mean it..... I really didn't. I was just mad at you for calling me fat. I never wanted this to happen. Please forgive me. I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living, my daddy you'll be.
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