Apology up front... A long "Journal-ish" post, just rambling....

Apology up front… A long “Journal-ish” post, just rambling…. But it does relate to Obesity and such, so thought I’d “think out loud” here… (Please skip if looking for real info)

Some of you may know I’ve been in Texas since the beginning of last week. My father has been diagnosed with multiple cancers and has been given about 3 months as the ‘optimistic’ prediction. Considering his health, he’s doing remarkably well. He has hospice here at his home 4 days a week, and literally piles of drugs to keep him comfy. My brother, sister and I arranged this Christmas to maximize “quality time” while he is still fully cognizant and alert. My sister was here the last week of November and first week of December, I’ll be here with him for two weeks, and my brother has scheduled his vacation to spend a couple of weeks here at the beginning of January. No Christmas Presents here, no Christmas Tree or décor. All arrive tomorrow with grandkids in tow for a Christmas Day that is just a “family Re-Union” rather than a “Big Christmas.” Yes, it’s a break from Family Tradition, but we felt having less “Event-Stress” time, spread out over these weeks to just sit and talk would be best. And it has been. We’ve looked at tons of old photos and I keep asking him to tell stories about things he likes to talk about. No big “Last Chance to Reconcile” sort of scenes, just hanging out and being together. No catalog of “Advice in my Absence,” just stories. Tonight we watched “A Christmas Story” (Ralphie and the Red-Rider B-B-Gun?) It’s one of my son’s favorites, and he never misses watching it at least once, or sometimes twice, at Christmas. My Dad had never seen it. He said he wanted to set his Tivo to catch it in the morning so he would have a chance to watch it again later. There’s a scene in the movie where Ralphie is helping his dad change a flat, and he spills the lugnuts. Ralphie blurts out “The Big F-Word” and there is a look on the Dad’s face that lets you know he is not just shocked that his son used that word, but a little impressed in an odd way, that his son is growing up. There is also the look on the dad’s face when he gives the B-B-Gun to his son ‘on the sly.’ It’s a very Father/Son specific connection where the father enjoys his son, is proud of and delighted in his son, without coming out and saying anything of the sort. Watch for these if you see the movie in the future. It’s a great demonstration of how Father Son connections go un-spoken. No words, just a shared moment. We’ve had a lot of such “shared moments” this last week. If we had been faced with this impending death situation 12 years ago, there may have been a lot of drama and exorcisms of pent up unresolved issues. My dad never came close to any “Father of the Year” awards. To call my childhood home dysfunctional, would have been like calling Jaba the Hut “full figured.” When my brother and sister and I would get together, we would often ask one another- “How did we ever make it to adult normal lives?” We were like Vets of a secret, private war. But somewhere along the way, I think we each “got it” that although we were born to be his children, he wasn’t born to be (or particularly good at taking on the role of) “Our Dad.” He was just a Man. A screw up kid who married, had kids, and stumbled along with his whacky life with all of its problems. He had disappointments, frustrations, and tons of baggage that had nothing to do with us. It wasn’t up to us to change him. He was and is who he is. Judging him without the “Dad Template,” he was just another eccentric character in the world. I hear stories of families where the siblings began fighting, getting their feelings hurt, and turning the whole “passing of a parent” into a tribal war or sorts. I am so thankful that my brother and sister are remarkably reasonable and compassionate. Mom remains his subservient hand-maiden, waiting on him hand and foot. At least now that he is immobile and on steady stream of high end pain meds, it doesn’t seem as out of place as is has for the previous 58 years. She is in good spirits and seems to be prepped for the end of my father quite well. She is making plans to clear out all of the stuff and get the house ready for sale as soon as the time arrives. She has many years of healthy active life ahead and plans on spending it traveling to see relatives from Alaska to Florida. Each of us have various theories about the how’s and why’s of our father’s quirks, but I think I have one that applies to us here…. My father is and has been for some 65+ years, Morbidly Obese. A 5’ 8” man weighing in just over 400 lbs. He wanted to be respected, He wanted to be a leader, He wanted to be taken seriously, The world in general did not hand him any of those things. Life is hard for everyone. It’s Harder for those carrying the physical and psychological excess baggage of Morbid Obesity. He wasn’t up for the task. Social reclusiveness, depression, alcoholism, and pent up anger at a world that saw him as a “Sub-Standard-Person,” pretty much shaped his life. Some MO guys deal with the awkwardness of social interaction with humor. He did not. Some MO folks, deal with being pigeonholed as “2nd-Class-Humans” by becoming bitter and defensive, and numbing themselves to those feelings by eating more, and “hitting the Bottle.” That was the tact he took. After watching “A Christmas Story,” he turned to me and said, “I wish I could have been that kind of Dad.” I asked, “What do you mean?” With no hesitation he said- “He was always fixing things. The furnace, changing the flat, the tree, the fuse-box…. I wasn’t ever one to just ‘jump in’ like that. I wish I could have done stuff without just calling a repairman …or whatever…..” Then he looked back at the TV and clicked the remote to History International Channel and the topic dropped… I knew exactly what he meant. And I think he knew that I knew… One of those “shared moments.” Until dropping my weight, I always did my yard-work with a pen and a checkbook. I wasn’t one to ‘jump-in’ like that either. Being twice the recommended weight kept me from ‘jumping in’ a lot. I feel so fortunate to have gotten my health in time to jump in while my son was still an active teen. Playing Basketball with him over the last 3 years has given many special “shared moments” to the two of us. Although my Life while more than double my present weight Was socially active, and successful in many ways, I never really understood the freedom of not having to think about - “Will I fit?” “Can I get up from there without making a fool of myself?” “Will I be able to physically do this?” I am so grateful that I am now able to just ‘jump-in.’ Not for my son’s sake, but for me, and maybe even for my dad. He wasn’t able to be “that kind of Dad.” Maybe I can be and break that family tradition for him. For those of you still fighting health and weight issues that keep you from “jumping in,” Keep fighting for your wholeness and health. Don’t worry about how your inability to fully participate might have an effect on your kids. They will be who they will be in spite of your efforts or lack thereof. My hope is that when my end comes, that I also get a schedule and a have some prep time. I hope my son will be as willing to spend some time with me. I of course wi**** could be shooting hoops rather than watching a movie.

Well, it’s very late. Santa has come and gone at homes where the kids were naughty and nice by now… My wife and all of the family will be here by noon, and I have dressing to prep.

Merry Christmas to All.