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The Diagnosis / The Letter
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The Diagnosis / The Letter |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart 
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The Diagnosis / The Letter In 1978 my father was diagnosed with emphysema. It was a terrible time for him; he was never ill, but the tightness in his chest had been building off and on. A private man, he did not want anyone but his wife to know of the illness. Being the man that he was he knew he would make every attempt to conquer this disease. He did not take affliction lightly. I lived in Illinois at the time. I was also pregnant with a second child; my father's second grandchild. One night mother called from California to tell me of my father's illness, but also to warn that he did not want the children to know of this. She sounded quite worried, and I recall asking her just how bad my father's condition was. She said that he had gone through one attack, and it worried her that he talked, in his delirium, of wanting to die soon, the pain was too much. We talked about what treatments the doctors could provide. Mother was optimistic that the treatments available would benefit him. But mother was just 45 years old at the time. She was too young to be a widow, and was not willing to give up on my father, as he was still a young 54. But the first attack had been so sudden, and frightening, that he was not sure he wanted to learn to live with this illness. In the way that husbands talk to their wives, he told her that he wanted to die now. She knew of only one way to reach him. She quietly told me what it was she wanted me to do. The idea she presented shocked me, and humbled me. Never would I have guessed that what she was asking me to do would have the desired impact on my father. I told her I would try to do as she requested. I was frightened in that I might fail at fulfilling her entreaty. I would only have one opportunity to make the impact that she hoped I could make. She also knew that of all of the children, I was the only one who could help make this request come to light. And no one else would know. I spent a day or two mulling over the request. It had to come normally, naturally, a daughter talking to her father, seemingly not aware that I knew of my father's illness. It also had to be from the heart. The magnitude of my mother's request was settling in. This would be the hardest request I had ever been asked to fulfill. Then one night, I sat down, and picked up my pen and my yellow legal pad. Even before ever entering the legal field, I wrote on yellow legal pads. I must have known what I would do down the road, but at that moment, I had no idea if I could fulfill my mother's appeal. "Dear Dad, I've been thinking of you today, and just wanted to sit down and drop you a line. I hope everyone is well. Give Mom my love. Tell Sissy hello. I feel so pregnant. I'm not even four months along, and I know I'll be out in a few months to visit, but my emotions are all over the place. I just had to take a few minutes to let you know how much I love you, and to tell you what a great grand-dad you're going to be. I can't wait for you to see your granddaughter again. Just think, you'll get to see me fat for the first time. Katy has been excited about coming to see her Poppie. I've been showing her your picture. She's pretty smart for four. But I think she remembers you from her first visit out there. At least she says she does. Will it be fair time when I get there? I seem to remember that it should be about that time. Maybe we can go to the rodeo. Dad, thanks for being there for me. Do you know how much I hate not being close to where you can always be with your granddaughter? There's nothing I want more than for you to be able to do everything with them that you did with us kids. I want them to be able to walk in your footsteps in the sand at the beach. I want you to be able to take them fishing off Pismo pier. I want you to be able to take them horseback riding. But mostly I want them to get to know you. All of the things that grandpas are supposed to be able to do for their grandkids, that's what I want you to do with my kids. I want you to spoil them, and tease them, and tell them stories, and always be there for them. I didn't get to do all of that with Granddad Charlie, and I know you will be there for them. They will have so much fun getting to know their grandpa. Thanks, Dad, for always being there for my kids. Love, Karilea" I took the letter and read it over and over. It was a simple enough letter, and no where did it convey the knowledge that I had lying heavy in my heart. No where did it say, "I know you're not well," or "we've got very little time left." I hoped it conveyed the "forever feeling" that grandkids are naturally supposed to have with family. I prayed that it would be the letter my Mom wanted her husband to receive. Slowly I folded the yellow paper into thirds. I placed the missive into its' envelope, licked the flap, sealed the envelope, and now, with a slightly shaking hand, addressed it to my Dad. I placed a stamp in the upper right corner. It would be mailed the next day. The waiting would begin. Days passed. Then Mom called. "It worked," she said. "But your sister freaked!" I asked what happened. My sister, who had not been told of my Dad's illness or of my mother's request to me, was home the day that Dad got his letter. As Dad read the letter, he started talking aloud. He became quite angry! That was exactly what Mom wanted him to do…get mad enough to live! She wanted him to see that he still had a lot of reasons to not give up on himself, and she needed me to write a letter to show him those reasons. It was not something that he was going to listen to, coming from her. He had to see the hope and dreams in his daughter's heart first. But he got so mad that he ripped the letter several times, asking aloud, "What is this? Does she think I'm going to die!" and this of course surprised and shocked my sister, who then attempted to put the letter back together to make some heads or tails out of why my Dad stormed out of the house and into his work-shop. She called my mother, frantic and thoroughly steamed that her older sister would make her father angry. Mom had to laugh through her tears of joy that the plan worked. And it did work, for ten years. Dad put up with all of the medical ministrations and machinations that science had back then for patients with emphysema. And he accommodated his slowing down without outwardly showing his frustration ever to his grandchildren. Instead, he found ways of staying busy without a lot of moving around. He began a doll's house for his granddaughters, as he now had three of them. In order to delay the finishing of the house, he methodically and painstakingly set about making doll house furniture out of scraps, using an old watch-face for a grandfather's clock, carving out roof tiles by hand, braiding small scraps for material for throw rugs. Everytime the grandchildren visited, he had something "new" to show them for the doll's house. As his illness advanced, so did his resolve. Even though he could not play hard with them, he "played long" and entertained them for hours when they visited with him. He played quiet board and card games with his granddaughters. He concentrated on making vivid memories for them to hold on to, long after he would be gone. There was not a visit left wanting for "something to do." Each time the children came home, they were full of stories of what they had done with their grandfather. They lived for each other. The love was there. As far as I was concerned, the letter I wrote in 1978 was the best letter I would ever be blessed with writing. I may never be an author, but on that one day, I was the daughter my Mom needed to give hope to the man she loved. Thanks, Mom, for putting your trust in me. And thanks, Dad, for getting mad enough to give us those ten years. < !signature--> Karilea If I whisper, will you listen?... I would rather be silent and write, than speak loudly and be bound. KRJ [This message has been edited by Sunshine (edited 11-18-2000).] |
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| © Copyright 2000 Karilea Rilling Jungel - All Rights Reserved | |||
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PhaerieChild Senior Member
since 1999-08-30
Posts 1787Aloha, Oregon |
This is so heart wrenching. I am so glad that you got him mad. Sometimes that is what it takes to get one off the death treadmill. I am so happy to hear that your children were able to know and love your Dad and that you had the fortitude to do what was needed to help him as well as your Mom. I hope if that ever happens to me, that my kids would be up to the task of doing whatever was needed. You never know what a tremendous force love is til you see it in action. How can you save me? When the dark comes right in and takes me, from my front walk and into bed, where it kisses my face and eats my head. Shivaree |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
A beautiful story, Karilea. I can envision his thoughts very well. There is nothing I can think of more abhorrent to a man than to realize that a grandchild to be born will never know him. Sometimes that's exactly what it takes - anger - anger at life, at circumstances, at fate and the strength and determination to use that anger to fight what has to be fought. Your letter was beautiful...and so are you. |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
Sun, I read this the other day but had to leave before I could reply ... I have just read it again... you have written this with such defintion I feel like I know your family personally. This is a very moving piece of writing but most of all it speaks of your strength and character... I related to this in many ways... losing a grandparent to this also. jm |
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Wilfred Yeats Member Elite
since 2000-08-04
Posts 2704Wilmington, Delaware |
Karilea - If your objective in writing this was to bring tears to my eyes - and a lump to my throat - you've succeeded completely - oh and the writing's great - reminiscent of O Henry's 'Last Leaf' |
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kaile
since 2000-02-06
Posts 5146singapore |
thank you for sharing this fine story about how your writing has impacted on someone dear to yourself...thank you also for reaffirming my belief in the written word  |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Never got around to thanking all of you for your lovely replies. Today seems a good day to do so. Thank you. |
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