A month ago this week, I was in a surgical unit at a hospital with my
family. We watched helplessly as my 76-year old father, our patriarch and
staunch supporter, was wheeled into surgery for the amputation of his right
leg due to complications associated with diabetes. Our conversations for
weeks before with his physicians and surgical team were anything but
uplifting. My father's stress test revealed a heart in such a state of
weakness that even if his body withstood the amputation, his heart may not.
He was in danger of dying on the operating table. His choices were limited
to risking his life with the amputation or keeping his leg and allowing the
diabetes to slowly take his life. What a choice. We were told to brace
ourselves for the worse. And to say our good-byes.
We had been through this before in February 2001 shortly before his left
leg was amputated. At that time, he was so sick that my brother had to beg his doctors to allow him out of the
hospital long enough to participate in his wedding. I
was pregnant with my first child and it seemed like having a seriously ill
father could not have happened at a worse time (as if there ever is a good
time). While we all enjoyed the
wedding, those of us watching Dad couldn't help but ponder whether it was
one of the last times we would ever see him dance.
But dance he did! He was spotted throughout the reception
splitting his time between the bar and the Soul Train dance line. When he
escorted me to the dance floor, nothing in the world mattered but the two of
us. As the evening wore on and he had fewer and fewer dance partners, my
newly married brother found him seated alone in quiet contemplation. I watched
intently as the two men smiled at each other with their chests stuck out
like two roosters. My father steadied himself on the table and stood slowly
to extend his hand. Then, each man hesitated as if trying to see who
would be the first to make the next move. In that moment, they collapsed
into each others arms. Of all the memories I have in my time on earth, that
one stands out, as two of the men I respect and admire most exchanged a
lifetime of words in a single prolonged embrace.
I didn't know if I'd ever see my father dance again, and in fact, I have
not. But what I have seen over the past 3 years is the beauty of a man
welcoming the twilight of his life with courage and grace. As we prepared
for the second leg amputation and possible death of Dad last
month, no one wanted to think the unthinkable. The doctors were nice enough,
but their words offered no hope at all. As he was wheeled into the operating
room, even in his weakened state, my father was the bravest and most
dignified I have ever seen him. He looked at me and said, "I will walk
again."
It's been just a month so
Dad
has not walked again but he's still
talking about doing so. He his hopeful about the future no matter what it
holds, and no matter how long or short it may be. With dignity and
composure, he endures the daily rigorous physical therapy that will help him
manage the rest of his life as a double amputee. While it's not unheard of
for a man of his age and health to walk with two prosthetic legs, it is
highly unusual. My dad has spent 15 hours a week for the last 10 years
dancing with a dialysis machine, which has been his physical lifeline. If he
skips a single dialysis treatment, he will die within a matter of a few
days. Men half my father's age with far more life ahead of them have
succumbed to the depression that often accompanies this "Dialyze or
Die" routine.
I have never been comfortable around illness. I don't like the smells. I
don't like the sounds. I don't like it when normal bodily functions aren't
normal anymore. I think -- and selfishly so -- that viewing such
vulnerability reminds me of how vulnerable I in fact am. Yet at this moment,
I am so grateful that even without legs, my father still chooses to dance.
While no one has the exact same set of circumstances as me, I know that
each one of you has a family member or friend who is facing a health crisis
of some kind. Perhaps even you are enduring some challenges in your own
life. As you move through this Thanksgiving Day and the start of another
holiday season, make special efforts to cast off the commercialism and
bustle which can sometimes be overwhelming and just downright annoying.
Instead, put on the
covering of a joy-filled heart and the cloak of a positive temperament. Embrace
and enliven one another! Enjoy the turkey, delicious side dishes, and yes some
desert too. Make some frivolity! Dance!!
Celebrate and be grateful for the people you love and the people
who love you. Allow the glow of that love to wrap its arms around you and
hold you close. And most of all, today, if given a choice, choose to dance
and be grateful.
