Sunday, January 22, 2012

My Last Post

This is my last post on this blog. As much as I've enjoyed holding onto it, I can't access it on my own computer anymore. I'm barely able to access it on my mom's computer, and the threatening "download or else" message by Google Chrome means that I have to move on. For my last post, I'd like to write about the thing that has affected me most. On October 8th, my dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. On November 2nd, he passed away at home with mom and me there. It all happened so fast and so hard that grieving has been sporadic. It was and still is a difficult time. I know this has changed me. I feel I am more cynical now. It certainly didn't help that two cancer awareness months happened back-to-back while the worst of it was going on. While I recognize the importance of cancer research and treatment, equal importance must be placed in early detection, which my dad didn't have. Everyone, please remember: if something doesn't feel right, go to the freaking doctor. Putting that off doesn't mean you don't have something until it is diagnosed. Since my dad's passing, I haven't had one dream about him, until last night. In the dream, I was riding in a car. My fried was taking me home. The dream took place in Hesperia, and we were driving down E Street, if anyone cares to know. It was clear by the houses along the street that we were in a fairly well-off neighborhood. That was my main clue that it was a dream, because if you've ever been in that part of Hesperia, you know there are no such houses. Except that crazy out-of-place mansion that used to have the vulture statues on the roof. Anyway, not the point. My friend dropped me off at this Tudor-style house that was clearly too big for just me. I went inside and entered a room with a large fireplace. As I got closer to it, I saw little pictures of people all over the mantle. They turned out to be pictures of those who are or will be important in my life. I wanted to look at all of the pictures, but something caught my attention. I turned to look behind me and therer off to the side was my dad. He was sitting in his recliner smiling at me. I started crying and went over to him. He rose and hugged me for a long time. I could feel myself starting to wake up; my body moving from this room and out of his arms and into my bed. But I fought it and managed to stay long enough for him to whisper in my ear. "Keep going."
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