I met Sarah in one of my peace building classes. We ended up teaching a seminar together and bonded over the loss of our fathers. The more I learn about her, the more amazing she gets. I mean look at her dad, his smile makes me smile from ear to ear every time I look at this picture. Here's Sarah's story.
I was 16 my dad was diagnosed with cancer. B cell Non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. He just thought he had a sore muscle, but when he went in, he found out he had a tumor the size of a golf ball. When you hear news like this, it can take a while to recover from what you heard. God doesn't expect us to be extremely happy about it, its ok to be shocked and its ok to be still. He quickly became crippled. He was confined to a wheelchair. He was a hefty guy, but almost overnight he became skin and bones. It was hard to watch and I was scared. I didn’t know how to react or what to do. We (my family) kinda treated it like it was a joke, like it wasn't real. As if it wasn’t happening. I really felt like he was Superman and there was no way he could die from this.
As he got sicker and sicker, I began to avoid him. I spent less and less time with him. But then he even believed that he was going to get better. One day in September, he brought our family together and told us, “Guys I just found out that my tumor hasn’t gone away and nothing's helping. So they said I have less than a year to live.” I was so stunned. I was like, Are you serious? I didn’t know what to do about it.
After that, he only lived for 4 more months. He died in January. During Christmas, he couldn’t get out of bed. He couldn’t come Christmas caroling with us. He was on so many drugs. Eventually he became unresponsive. I remember my mom kept saying, "You can go, you can leave us, it’s ok." And I thought No it’s not! Why are you telling him to go? Then I remember grabbing his hand saying stay, "No dad, you can stay. You can fight this." Then I felt him start to hyperventilate. Maybe because he didn’t want to go. Then we told him he could fight and I could see he felt more courageous.
But then I felt that he was coming to terms with leaving, he felt stronger about it. The night he died, I was sleeping downstairs. Early that morning at about 5 a.m., my sister came down and said, “Dad finished his first estate, come say goodbye.” We were all very calm. The room felt like the temple. It was so peaceful. So I went upstairs but I didn’t want to see him. He just looked like a shell, there was no substance to him. It was really weird.
They took his body away pretty quick. I didn’t want to look at him or say goodbye. I didn’t want to be there with him. I think maybe I was in shock. I didn’t even tell anyone. I didn’t even tell my best friend. There was a mass text that went around town. I was grumpy and frustrated that everyone wanted to be mushy and emotional. They wanted to ask me how I felt. I just wanted them to go away. I didn’t feel anything so I didn’t want to talk about it.
He was a super go-getter, A-type personality. He had the biggest heart ever. He was super kind. He and I started a dance team where we would help troubled youth come learn how to respect each other and change. We started basketball teams. He was my soccer coach. He helped me win a pageant. One of my favorite memories was him waltzing around the stage teaching me how to be graceful for the Miss Grantsville Pageant.
One time I was grounded and I was like man this sucks. He said, "I’m bored, let's go bowling." Then he invited all my friends I was grounded from to come bowl with us. We partied hard that night. It was so fun.
My dad also taught through his example, to be kind. Many times I would wake up in the morning to a rap that sounded something like this,
Get your head outta bed
Don't you hear that's what I said
Outta those covers and on to yours feet!
Your about as ugly as a pound of ground beef.
So get your head outta bed!
One time my dad was dosed up on a lot of morphine for the pain, and he was apparently extremely delusional when one day we walked into the room and my dad looked at his computer bag and said, "Here kitty kitty." We were so confused.
My dad was always really possessive of his stuff and with nine kids it's very hard to keep people children from eating or using your stuff. When we he was really sick, he called a family meeting in his room. When were all gathered we thought he was going to say something really profound. But when he pointed to the food he was eating and said, "See this, don't eat it, this is dads!" We laughed so hard.
My dad is a huge part of who I am, through 7 years of soccer, 4 years of basketball, 10 years of voice lessons and performances, 8 years of teaching Ballroom dance together, my dad taught me to work as a team, to follow my dreams, and most importantly that my "old man, could be my best friend"
I miss just hanging out with him. Doing stuff with him. I miss him having my back. He was the one person in this world who had my back 100 percent.
I don’t have regrets anymore really. I feel that I’ve cleared it up. I wish I would have spent more time with him during his sickness and not been so afraid of it. I should have educated myself. I didn’t know anything. I wish I would have read Tuesdays with Morrie. When people are dying want to be as close to others as they can. That’s all they want. My dad wanted that, he would say, "I just want you to be with me." But it made me uncomfortable. Now I know that’s normal.
I think a lot of what helped me was time. It’s been 7 ½ years. I think having a relationship with him now, as weird as that sounds, really helped me to know him now and that it’s not the end. As members of the church (LDS church), we have that perspective, but to actually feel it and see how my dad is working in my life right now, really helps in the steps to heal.
But right after he died, I completely shut people out. I was so numb for a while. Maybe 6 months. I was so angry. I was mad at God for making me feel that everything was ok. My dad got multiple blessings for healing and he still died. I was mad. Then I would have these nights where I would just bawl for hours and hours and hours and it just hurt so bad. I used to have an amazing memory. I remembered everything all the time. Then I lost a lot of my memory. I became awkward in social situations. I didn't’ know how to talk to people because it seemed like everyone's life was going completely normal and mine had been completely destroyed. This lasted about 3 years. It was definitely a cycle. Anger, numbness, acceptance, it just got less and less as time went on.
I wish others would have been more relaxed about it, not so anxious talking about death. I wish no one would have talked to me about grieving unless they had gone through it. Or say, “I get what you're going through”, “Yep that’s normal!”, “That’s part of the grieving process.” I felt like people would either brush it off or lecture me. I wish they asked me straight up, 'How are you doing' and really mean it. If you don’t know me, why ask me? You don’t go up to someone and ask about their sex life if you don’t know them, same with grieving. Don’t compare it to your own stuff. “I had a cat that died once” Um no you can’t compare your cat’s death to my father. Those are my bits of advice. Don’t say those things.
I think I had a lot of side effects up until I got married, but maybe didn't realize it. When I got married, it was the first time that I ever really felt safe and wasn’t dependent on my family to be strong. The first year I just bawled. My husband would leave for work and I would cry on the floor for about 4 hours every single day. Cry, like ugly scream cry. I would talk to my husband but I felt so bad for him because I was an emotional wreck like all the time. I didn’t want him to regret having married me. I definitely tried to be normal-ish but I would tell him memories and talk to him. I would tell him about my life and things that my dad and I should have done. I wish we would have done this or that together….
My dad and I were always performing, we had our dance class and sports teams. About a year after my dad died, I honestly felt me dad tell me that we had one last performance. I thought, What does that mean? So I just sat down and wrote it. I wrote an entire talk for a church fireside. I picked the music and I felt him telling me what to do. The words just came to me and I know he was helping me. We totally put together this whole thing. I did it for the whole seminary in my town. I spoke in California, Kansas, Idaho, Utah, all over the place. In the fireside, I tell funny stories about my dad, then I go over how hard it is when you hear horrible news. I tell his story and what happened and the role it has played in my life.
