I’ve never missed my Open Our Eyes deadline before, this is a first. It’s not me to be late, I do things early, maybe too early. Sometimes before I’ve even gotten the directions for whatever it is I’m doing. So, you know there must be some explanation for why my post is late and there is.
I lost my father.
Now, this isn’t news to many of my readers. Considering they’re close friends and family, who’ve been incredibly supportive throughout the entire situation. Then again, to a lot of people this is brand new information, so I’ll share a little bit.
My father, Russell Polson, was diagnosed with colon cancer in October 2013. About a month into my freshman year of college, I got a terrible text message that said exactly what I was dreading. Ever since then, every text message from my mother has made me a cringe a little. What would it say? Would there be more bad news? Could it possibly be worse than your father being terminally ill? I don’t have the answer that question because I think we all know it could be.
August 6th, 2015, 1:20am, I was in my living room at home with my brother, three sisters, sister in law, and mother, when I heard my father breathe his last breath. He’d been unconscious for several hours and we’d said our goodbyes a few hours before this, and we’d already cried a lot. I somehow thought I was ready, prepared even, for what I knew was coming. But when his labored breathing stopped, my brother took his pulse, and it was over. The finality of it all was more than I’d accounted for. It was so quick. His health hadn’t been good for several months but I’d been talking to him 3 days ago. And now he’s gone.
Grief is something I’m very unaccustomed to. I’ve never lost someone close to me before. I’ve been blessed in that way. Losing my dad was never something I planned on. I mean, his dad lived to be 86 or something, so, by my math, I had at least 20 more years. I was going to be forty, married, established, done with my student debt, and maybe have some adopted children. It would be normal and planned. I plan everything, you see. I love knowing what’s going to happen. I recently had to take the StrengthsQuest test and my number one strength is consistency. If consistency were correct, my father would still be alive. If consistency were correct, I wouldn’t have to worry about carrying a high chance of cancer in my being at this moment. If consistency were a solid basis for life, this post would have been on time.
It will be two weeks tomorrow that my father has been gone and I miss him so much. I want to turn back time and convince him to go to the doctor way before he did so that it’d be easier to stop. But I can’t. It wasn’t God’s will for my dad to beat cancer and a little part of me knew that all along. I’m pretty realistic for the most part but I was simultaneously in denial. I just thank God for the father he gave me, who taught me more about love and compassion than I suspect anyone else ever will. I’ll never meet anyone who lives up to him and I’m okay with that.