One day in 2008, I got a call from my older sister, telling me that our father had been diagnosed with stomach cancer and the doctor had given him three months to live. I was living in Minnesota at the time, far away from Ogden, Utah.
 
I quickly arranged to go back home. 

I headed out to “take care” of Dad for a while. 

I moved back home, back into the old house he raised us in, and I learned once again how strong and determined he was.  

Dad was happy I had come home. He showed me where the extra blankets were and made sure I was comfortable. I stayed in the bedroom I had while I was growing up. I soon found out, though, that taking care of my dad was going to be tricky.

Mainly it was because I couldn’t find him. He was the most difficult patient I’ve ever seen. 

He didn’t lie around complaining.  In fact, he was very active. He did not cooperate with my need to tend to an ill person. I was far away from Minnesota, but fortunately, I could still work remotely. Dad didn’t have internet (never did) so I’d go away to work for a while and come back to an empty house. He’d be gone somewhere – to the store, or whatever, ignoring the fact that he was dying. 

He never did act sick. I could tell he was suffering, yes. 

He was always freezing, for one thing. It seems like he never took off his thick winter coat. There was Dad, bee-bopping around in his winter coat at all times. 

Another thing that happened is that he got progressively thinner. It became a game to him not to buy new clothing. Always the frugal one, he did not see the point in buying new clothing for a body that had been given three months to live. Instead, he just kept punching more and more holes in the one belt he owned. 

He just kept pulling his belt tighter. And he kept on living. 

Three months passed, and he was still alive. He started making jokes about “Outliving his expiration date.” 

I gave up on “taking care of him” and just enjoyed his company – when I could find him. 

Here’s what I learned:  

• First, 
Live as fully as you can to the very end. 
o If my Dad had been a cooperative cancer patient, he would have suffered much more than he did. He kept doing what he wanted to do with each day he had left, and as a result, he enjoyed his life far more than he would have if he had seen himself as a victim. 

• Second, 
Don’t curse your circumstances.
o Dad was given three months to live. He wasn’t happy about that, of course, but what could he do? He just dealt with the reality he had and kept on moving forward. 

Dad passed away in 2009, a full year after he’d been given three months to live. 

I miss him every day. 

He still inspires me. 

I’m glad I went back home to “take care” of Dad while he was dying, because spending time with my Dad at the end of his life taught me some valuable lessons. 

Above all, my Dad taught me how to live.

Debra Payne, PhD, Obstacle Blasting Coach, is a long time contributing editor for Wandering Educators. Debra works with people to get big, long, scary projects done and she can also help people get through college. Debra specializes in ADHD Coaching and you can find her here: http://djpcoaching.com/. You can also email her directly at debra[at]djpcoaching.com

All photos courtesy and copyright Debra Payne