There is a reason they are called the greatest generation.

Michael Haz said...

I spent part of the day with the old man. He has cancer now, abdominal mesothelioma. Not curable and the treatments available are mostly as bad as the disease. He's chosen to skip the treatments and let the cancer run its course.

He's lost 15 pounds in the last month. He was strong and muscular six months ago; the muscles seem to be melting off of him now.

We've had the long talks about his will and plans for funeral and burial. He's filled out the DNR form with his MD and hospital, gave me a copy, and posted one on his refrigerator door. Next week we'll sign him up for one of those emergency call button services, and he wants to pick out a walker because he's a bit unsteady on his feet now.

He hasn't uttered one word of complaint. Hell, he spent two damn years on Guadalcanal and never complained about that or anything else in his life. All he said about being in the South Pacific was that he learned to like papaya and guava and still likes to eat them.

When we discussed whether or not he'd have treatment he said that he believes the when we are born each one of us is given a number of days to live. Some are given more days, some fewer, but our days our numbered and his time is up. He'd rather live out the few days he has left in the way he chooses, not what some well-meaning physicians might suggest.

We've invited him to move in with us. Maybe he will, maybe not. it's his choice. I do know this: I won't outsource his care to strangers during the last months of his life.

I'm a fatalist by nature. Maybe that's because I'm RC to the bone. Maybe because that's how I was raised or maybe because I'm a realist.

When you scrape away all the other stuff we fret over, the only purpose of this life is to get to the next life, and to do some good stuff along the way while we're on earth.

What kind of cars we drive, how many "followers" we have, which social circles we are admitted into are all meaningless in the end. What matters is leaving our loved ones with good memories of us, for as long they are alive.

"Why should I have a big funeral?" he asked me. "All my friends are already dead. I want a small service, then take everyone out for lunch. All I am is what you remember. I'll be gone, and I'll see you on the other side."

Here's hoping we'll all see each other on the other side someday.