The Very Best of My Dad

I wasn’t going o swim today. I went on a run at a quarter to 5:00 because I had plans to take my son to the DMV early in the morning and then needed to hunker down and work the rest of the day. At 6:15 my mom calls to tell me that my dad passed away just a couple hours earlier. We all knew this was coming and, honestly, are all relieved to see my dad free from suffering. I head over to my parents house to pay final respects to my dad’s body, which just feels like a big heavy empty shell. At 9:30 my mom wants to be left alone which is understandable given that she has been surrounded by people, both familiar and unfamiliar, for the last week.

I want to do something that will help me to feel connected to my dad. Swimming at The Strand is the obvious option short of flying to Hawaii. The Strand, also known as Strands Beach, has been a key landmark of our family for my entire life. My paternal grandparents had a trailer at the Dana Strand Beach Club back in the 50s. My dad spent his summers in this trailer and later in local rentals throughout his high school years where he worked as a lifeguard for the club. My dad has always loved this beach. For as long as I can remember he has taken regular, if not daily, surfs, runs and walks on this beach. Lately, its just been walks.

Eight years ago my dad suffered a heart attack. Unfortunately he did not know it was a heart attack at the time and went two weeks before it was discovered and in the meantime his heart suffered irreparable damage. This milestone proved to be the downfall of my dad’s otherwise excellent health. My dad had always been active and a mostly healthy eater but there was just no competing with that heart attack. In the end, it would win. It would cripple his “golden” years and lead him to the end of his life at the age of 79.

This last year has been particularly rough and debilitating. He suffered a bout with pneumonia a few months ago that really brought home the fact that our time with dad was limited. Then he lost consciousness from low blood pressure and fell about 10 days ago. That would be the final death nell.

About 25 years ago, I volunteered at a hospice for almost a year. I learned then that death was much more messy than we are lead to believe by TV and movies. I was very much reminded of this over the last 10 days. This may sound awful, but if my dad was a pet, we would have had him “put to sleep” days ago. Yes, he was on “comfort” meds but if you ask me he looked anything but comfortable. It was very difficult to watch. I found myself praying and praying for God to take him home. This morning that prayer was definitively answered.

So it’s 10:00 and I am driving to the beach to try and find my dad in the water. So many of my very best memories with dad have been in that water. I don’t think I will ever walk on that beach or swim in that water and not be reminded of him. And the best thing is that I will be reminded of the very best of him. My dad was human. Mistakes were made. But on that beach, it was always a good time. I could tell that my dad felt joy in my own joy. Even now in my 50s, my dad loved hearing about my swims and loved reading this blog.

There are clouds in the sky that look like they could burn off in the next hour or two. There is a south wind blowing putting quite a bit of bump on the water’s surface. Let it be bumpy. I don’t need a nice smooth surface today. I just want to be in this place and think about my dad.

The water is absolutely delightful - probably 68. I get lots of water in all the orifices on my head and it is totally fine. It makes me feel alive. It makes me think of when my dad would have felt these sensations when he was healthier and I know he was having a great time. My dad was not the kind of person who I would label “in touch with his feelings” although he did grow much softer in later years. However, I know he relished in feelings of joy and excitement when playing in the ocean. I know he absolutely loved it. I know that I absolutely love it and in these moments of excitement and pleasure, I feel connected to the best of who my dad was.

As I swim out here I think of his ailing body especially in the last couple of days. That body was not capable of doing what I am doing now, but I know that it yearned for it. He was so restless and could not find a position where he could find comfort. I know that body would love to be dropped into warm ocean water and allowed to float freely. I hope…no I know that he is doing just that right now. Either that or something so much better. I know he is free of pain and surrounded by love. A love that we can only try to imagine.

I will see him again. This good bye is only temporary. I will miss him so much until then. I wish I could tell him exactly how many miles I ran today in my new neighborhood I just moved to last week - ironically, his neighborhood. He would have certainly asked. I wish he could keep reading my posts and commenting on facts he found interesting or humorous. Who knows, maybe he is reading them and we’ll catch up on all these posts over on the other side of this life when someday I join him.