Opportunities Lost

I watched my father die a slow death, literally wasting away before my eyes. Once a fierce, proud and determined man, before me now lay a pathetic shadow of this domineering personality. Only the cold, dark eyes of judgment remained.

He never softened as the end of his life became aware to him. There was a big heart inside but, although the approaching end grew closer and closer, he never shared from this heart – at least, not to me.

 No, he remained business as usual until the end. In one of our last conversations he boastfully admitted that he was able to pull strings to get me accepted into the Naval Academy. It was a fact I suspected but preferred the sanctity of doubt to the cold reality of never having belonged in the first place. Such was his nature – I’ve long since forgiven him.

 Sadly, his illness and death never presented an opportunity for healing and forgiveness. It was the waste of a potential lesson that could have done much to advance our souls – each of us. I lacked the courage and he lacked the humility to offer. And so our final parting remained a standoff…he with the arrogance of a controlling father and I with the shame of an imperfect son. A wasted lesson, indeed.

 Now less than fifteen years later, by some perverse irony of the Universe, I learn that my oldest son, David, is afflicted with the same disease as my father: pancreatic cancer.

 As I struggle with the reality of this irony, I continually flash back to that dreadful scene with my father in his last days. And I project ahead a similar scene. It is terrifying and so very sad. I am angry now and grieve a potential loss for no apparent reason.

 Yet, I know it will be different this time. There will be no walls separating and preventing the natural bond of father and son. I am so grateful and proud that my son has the strength of character and power of humility to accept his fate with graceful submission. He understands God’s will without trying to pick apart the details of His Devine plan. Unlike my father, he will not stubbornly and defiantly resist the opportunity of staring face-to-face into his own mortality.

 We take so much for granted…always believing there will be another day, another opportunity to find peace and happiness…not realizing that it’s already with us.

 As I saw my father as always being there, I believed there would be plenty of chances to show him that I mattered. But when I had the opportunity, the urgency of communication, I looked away…and so did he. And so I never mattered.

Likewise I saw my son as always being there. We had time. I had much to say and suspect that he did as well. Yet, we each knew the other would be around and, someday, we would put all this stuff on the table – when the time was right.

There is no time – procrastination means opportunity lost…forever. I cannot speak for Dave but, as for myself, there will be no more squandered opportunities. I know this from the last days I spent with my father; I will not let it happen again.

 And so, as I grieve for Dave and his family, I strive to suppress the anger and focus instead on the opportunity…and gratitude that I have awareness. Awareness now of the pitfalls of arrogance and fear. No father-son relationship should be subject to such things. I thank God I have time to, once and for all, redefine the basis of our special bond.