I very rarely write anything, and what little I do write, I do so for me. It helps me to get some things out this way, and to move on from them. I think it's been nearly 7 years since I last wrote on here, and that was after a friend died. So I thought what the hell, time to do it again. And I write knowing nothing about the people who might read this, but that doesn't matter.
On February 8th, my father's neighbors grew concerned that he hadn't been seen in a few days. A bunch of older, retired people with dogs to keep them young. They all walked together as a group.
My dad was clearly home. All cars present. Metal front door bolted, but main door open. They could see and hear him, but he wasn't getting up to answer their knocks. Finally they threatened to break open the door, if he didn't. I still don't know how they got in.
They found him in a mess. He hadn't moved in a few days, neither did his dog, who was clearly concerned as well. They thought he had a stroke, because of how he was acting. Like good neighbors, they call for help.
After some tests, it was determined that he didn't have a stroke.
It was worse.
He had a massive, think small fist, tumor in his head. A Glioblastoma. Incurable.
There were three choices to be made:
1. Do nothing. 3 months to live.
2. Treat with chemo and radiation. Maybe, 2-3 extra months, but that shit takes a toll on quality of life.
3. Surgery, to include chemo and radiation. Maybe, 12 months, but less than 1% chance of more. Plus an even bigger toll. Due to the size and location, left frontal lobe, removing it would also remove his ability to speak and use his right side, and the toll of chemo and radiation sickness.
How does one decide? I knew what I would choose, and it's what he chose.
Do nothing.
The one benefit to this type of tumor, medicine can keep the bad symptoms at bay, until a point. Meaning, He would be normal, on a slowly descending path, until a quick fall from a cliff.
He fell from that cliff on March 15th.
He died peacefully, without any pain, in his sleep, on March 19th, 2025. He was 72.
He joined his parents. He joined his older brother, who died almost 10 years to the day earlier. He joined his younger brother, who died nearly 8 years earlier. He joined his younger sister, who died 6 years earlier.
I witnessed the final moments as his body was placed into the cremation oven. I could not be there in person to witness this though, as I am on the other side of the world.
As I type this, he is still in that cremation oven, where he was placed just one hour ago.
He was an amazing dad, loved by all. I miss him. I love you dad.
