September 29, 2003
The Most Daunting Of Tasks
A very good friend of mine called me the other day, his voice on the phone not his usual joyous tone. He sounded terrible, stuffed up, and spoke slowly and deliberately, taking deep breaths almost before every other word. I knew immediately why he sounded the way he did.
"How's your dad, dude?" I was almost afraid to hear his response.
"Val," his voice trailed off and I knew he was composing himself to continue.
His dad had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer a few months ago. No cure, no chance for any medical breakthough to keep his old man with him just a little longer. I thought it was the call I'd been dreading, the call to tell me his dad had passed.
"Dude," he tells me. "It's not good...Complications." He goes on to tell me about a procedure they'd done on his dad and how while during the surgery they had uncovered yet another byproduct of the disease. One which, no matter what, was not only unstoppable but further exacerbated his condition.
"Doctor says a week. Maybe two, tops."
My heart lumped in my throat. I wished, at that very moment, I hadnt answered the phone. I wished I were someone else or so far away that no one could ever reach me. I fought the tears back and begged my mind and heart for words, but none came.
"Dude. I am so sorry man. So sorry. I can't even begin to find the words." What do you say to someone in that situation? Nothing I could possibly say would help ease his pain. I could hear him fighting back the emotions over the phone.
"Dude," I tell him, "if theres anything I can do, anything, just say..."
"I know Val," he sighed. "There is actually something that, it's gonna sound a little weird but..."
"Dude, whatever you need from me man. Whatever."
"Well," he took a deep breath, "Like I said, it's gonna sound a little weird but, I.. I just don't think I can do it. I mean, I know what I want to say but I'm not good with words and... I know this will sound fucking strange but, can you help me write his obituary?"
I didn't know what to say again.
"If it's too much to ask," he was almost apologetic. "Don't worry about it, man. I can have ..."
"No no, man. It isnt too much to ask. I just don't know if something I can write will do justice to you father man. You know? I mean, it's your old man, dude. I can help you write it but I don't think I can possibly say about him what needs to be said."
"I really would never put this burden on you Val, but I just..." He trailed off again. I knew he was crying. "I just can't do it Val. I can't."
"Dude, no problem, man. I'll help you write as much as you want. But you will need to tell me what you want to say. I know your dad is an awesome dad but...you need to write it and I will help you put it into words befitting him."
"I have started to write some stuff," he said. "I'll finish adding everything and I'll email it to you.."
"Ok. When I get the email and have read it I'll call you."
I recieved the email this morning, read it, cried, picked up the phone and almost called my buddy to tell him that I couldn't do it. In my mind I was thinking I would tell him that it was perfect. That it said what needed to be said.
But it didn't. I know his dad. I know the kind of man he is. I know the kind of friend my buddy has been and, I know what he wanted to say about his dad.
So I helped him write his dad's obituary, and it's the hardest thing to write I have ever written.
Posted by Val Prieto at September 29, 2003 02:51 PM
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Comments
It's a huge mitzvah, though. Bless you.
Posted by: Dave at September 29, 2003 04:20 PM
God Bless You Val, you're a good friend.
Posted by: Sgt Hook at September 29, 2003 05:31 PM
And such an honor that your friend would choose you as the man to sum up his father's life in words. Not an enviable task, but one that must be done for all of us, someday.
You deserve a drink, though. A few, actually.
D
Posted by: David Strain at September 29, 2003 06:32 PM
Geez...I think the only thing that could be harder to write is a description/definition of love. Actually, that's just about what you have to do. My thoughts and prayers are with you both. When you give him his next hug, could you give him a little extra squeeze for me?
Posted by: Stevie at September 30, 2003 04:15 AM
Whoa...
When the time comes and I must face a situation like that (and of course it will come), I just pray that I have a friend such as you to help me out as well.
G-d Bless you and G-d Bless your friend in the hard times ahead. May He forever be with him, lending him strength and comfort.
Posted by: Emperor Misha I at September 30, 2003 10:30 AM
Wow. Your friend is very lucky to have you. You keep saying you didn't know what to say ... but reading this post made me realize: sometimes the best thing you can do for a friend is not just say anything, and just BE there for them. You were just THERE for him.
He is blessed to have you.
Posted by: red at September 30, 2003 11:58 AM
You are an honorable man and a good friend. Stay strong for him and know that we are thinking of you both.
Posted by: Blackfive at September 30, 2003 11:59 AM
Unky,
If this is somone I know, please send them my condolences, and tell them I'm praying for them.
Well, even if I don't, do the same.
Posted by: Amanda at September 30, 2003 12:17 PM
Val, Scripture speaks of a friend that is "closer than a brother". This, I believe, is an apt description of the relationship you have, not only with your friend, but his father as well.
May God bless you and comfort both you and your friend during this time.
Posted by: Lord Spatula I, King & Tyrant at September 30, 2003 01:02 PM
Wow...this is my first time here and I am already full of awe and respect for you. You're a good-hearted man and full of honor. May both you and your friend get through this rough time and enjoy peace and happiness at last. G-d Bless you.
--Denita TwoDragons,
Associate Tender of the Fire
Posted by: TwoDragons at September 30, 2003 03:04 PM
My mother died of pancreatic cancer three years ago this November. She spent 70 days in Johns Hopkins, 30 days in rehab, home for three weeks, and then went back to the hospital again where she died approximately a month later. I did not deliver her eulogy nor did I write her obituary. I started to many times. I always wound up writing more about myself than her, though that clearly wasn’t my intention. Somewhere during the process it occurred to me that the funeral, ostensibly about her, was actually for those of us who remained.
This all came on the heels of my little sister being diagnosed with colon cancer earlier that terrible year. I can only tell you, that of all the lessons my mother taught me, most of which I ignored when I was younger, how to die like a ‘man’ was the hardest lesson to learn. My sympathies to you and your friend. Tom
Posted by: Tom at September 30, 2003 07:04 PM
If his dad is strong enough, tell him to talk with his dad about his dad's childhood. It's the thing I didn't get to do before my dad went from prostate cancer earlier this year. What was his dog's name? Where did he go to elementary school? Who was the first girl he had a crush on?
A heartfelt obit is the hardest thing in the world to write. It's best done by a stranger. Blessings on you.
Posted by: Richard R at September 30, 2003 08:00 PM
Ah, to be present to the miracle of life, NOW, HERE...
Where did we forget? When did we leave? Didn't I tell Dad I love him? Doesn't Mom know I love her dearly?
Why didn't I say this when they were here to listen? How can I make it through this transition now?
Am I yet alive? What can I say to my Mother NOW? What can speak my love for my father, NOW?
Posted by: Eye Opener at September 30, 2003 11:55 PM
Thanx to all of you for your prayers, thoughts and support. It is greatly appreciated.
Posted by: Val Prieto at October 2, 2003 07:54 AM
