31 years and four weeks ...

Today, the title says it all for me. While I have tried to not think about the significance of today, it has not been far from the back of my mind. Every year, I feel my birthday overshadowed by the events that ensued 4 days later ... the anniversary of my father's death. I find it rather odd that two of the most defining events of my life occur within mere days of each other. I was 3 when he died at age 30. I spent my entire 31st year on pins and needles ... just wanting to get past that point. That is no way for a person to live. What impacted me the most from this event is the simple fact that I have very little to celebrate from his life. Very few memories, a couple of pictures, a couple trinkets, and one very important pendant. For years, I agonized over why. Hell, it even went a long way in my religious journey ... realizing that the Fates are in control, and they have events set in motion for reasons unbeknownst to man. Those reasons and events continue to unfold, though the death of my father was yet another event in the line. While I spent years blaming myself, I came to realize that I had no control over what happened that day 31 years ago ...
... just as I really had no control over what happened four weeks today. On that day, March 11, my old man succumbed to the lymphoma that was destroying his life. He had been fighting since last summer, before he was actually diagnosed with lymphoma. We knew there was a chance of lymphoma caused by the experimental treatments he was receiving for ankylosing spondylitis - a minuscule chance that was worth taking the risk for him to be pain free and able to function better. Sometimes, no matter how good the odds, the house will win. We were optimistic until the day we found out he had two options left - stop fighting, let the lymphoma in his neck win OR try another experimental treatment that would likely destroy his kidneys. The choice was painful ... but relatively easy.
I was at work when I received the call from my little sister. I went through most of the stages of grief in the matter of 10 minutes ... all but acceptance. I couldn't, hell I wouldn't, accept it until I knew it was true. Until I saw his face that night ... and I finally shed tears. "I just want you be happy. Live your life, do what you need to do, but be happy ..." Sage like advice from a blue collared man (literally, he wore blue shirts almost all the time) ... and something I need a reminder of, almost daily. Yet here he was, knowing he had a matter of weeks to live, and he is lying on his couch with an aura of peace. Looking back, it was like talking to the Buddha of the Working Class.
With everything I am going through, there are times when happiness seems as though it is a mirage - I get close, but it is mere illusion. However, I know that I must keep up the fight. At age 34, I have more responsibility on my shoulders than ever before. But it is now that I am finding myself facing those responsibilities head-on. Standing strong, holding my ground ... but I'm still learning how to smile again. That's not easy to do.