by Wes Fessler
It was 4:30 AM on September 6, 2010 when my father passed away, after a lengthy fight with cancer. A majority of his family stood at his side as his life drew near to its conclusion. He lay in his bed, fighting for the ability to speak and communicate his needs, but only indistinguishable shallow moans and an occasional motion of his arms gave any indication of his wishes, as his body succumbed to the finality the disease.
It was 4:30 AM on September 6, 2010 when my father passed away, after a lengthy fight with cancer. A majority of his family stood at his side as his life drew near to its conclusion. He lay in his bed, fighting for the ability to speak and communicate his needs, but only indistinguishable shallow moans and an occasional motion of his arms gave any indication of his wishes, as his body succumbed to the finality the disease.
Relief from Pain
The dim light of the lamps reflected the mood of the room as those who stood by watched hopelessly – aware that there was nothing that could prevent death’s imminent approach, and feeling almost guilty for advocating the moment that would release him from his pain. Being there, and accepting the fate to come seemed to be two contradictory elements; but both were necessary, and ironically both were a beginning to the healing of longstanding family wounds. The passing of a father is a difficult emotional event for most families with unique circumstances that apply to kin and loved ones. My father’s death marked the end of a journey of learning and growth, as life and its unexpected twists and turns shaped a rough and hard man into a more pliable and amiable person.
The dim light of the lamps reflected the mood of the room as those who stood by watched hopelessly – aware that there was nothing that could prevent death’s imminent approach, and feeling almost guilty for advocating the moment that would release him from his pain. Being there, and accepting the fate to come seemed to be two contradictory elements; but both were necessary, and ironically both were a beginning to the healing of longstanding family wounds. The passing of a father is a difficult emotional event for most families with unique circumstances that apply to kin and loved ones. My father’s death marked the end of a journey of learning and growth, as life and its unexpected twists and turns shaped a rough and hard man into a more pliable and amiable person.
Two Different Worlds
My family’s experiences with my father were starkly different from those of others who knew him. To others, he was known as a teacher and sports coach who spent countless hours refining the knowledge and skills of youth and adults alike. To his family, he was a strict disciplinarian who aligned his children with his expectations to the point of fear and intimidation. He shared very few moments of leisurely fun with any of his children, and nearly always turned away their requests for play, for help with homework, or for simply sharing time together.
My family’s experiences with my father were starkly different from those of others who knew him. To others, he was known as a teacher and sports coach who spent countless hours refining the knowledge and skills of youth and adults alike. To his family, he was a strict disciplinarian who aligned his children with his expectations to the point of fear and intimidation. He shared very few moments of leisurely fun with any of his children, and nearly always turned away their requests for play, for help with homework, or for simply sharing time together.
Cycle of Aversion
The disparity between the life he lived with others and the life he lived with our family went largely unnoticed by friends and others, but it was a source of lasting confusion, disappointment, and sorrow for his children who desperately longed for shared moments that would allow them to grow closer to him. My siblings and I sought his attention for many years, and wished that his contempt for us would change, but for reasons unknown, we were unable to break the cycle of his aversion. We loved him, but his persistent refusal to involve himself in our lives was a great source of disappointment in each of our childhoods.
The Goodness Inside
My father was not a bad man by any means. He spent much of his life helping and teaching others. He had many charitable and honorable qualities and values that made him a good person. Most of those who knew my father respected him, and by and large, he respected others. It was at home where interactions seemed askew -- where his children quietly wondered why they were shut out of his greatly desirable activities.
My father was not a bad man by any means. He spent much of his life helping and teaching others. He had many charitable and honorable qualities and values that made him a good person. Most of those who knew my father respected him, and by and large, he respected others. It was at home where interactions seemed askew -- where his children quietly wondered why they were shut out of his greatly desirable activities.
Cancer
Many years passed, and the children grew up, eventually leaving home. Each of the children became involved in their own lives and challenges. My father’s demeanor softened bit by bit as grandchildren came into the picture, and as their youthful innocence caused him to reflect on how he treated his children. It was when pancreatic cancer struck him, however, when the greatest changes occurred in my father’s approach to his family relationships. As an acute awareness of his mortality beset him, his appreciation for his family seemed clearly more important to him.
Many years passed, and the children grew up, eventually leaving home. Each of the children became involved in their own lives and challenges. My father’s demeanor softened bit by bit as grandchildren came into the picture, and as their youthful innocence caused him to reflect on how he treated his children. It was when pancreatic cancer struck him, however, when the greatest changes occurred in my father’s approach to his family relationships. As an acute awareness of his mortality beset him, his appreciation for his family seemed clearly more important to him.
Time and Tide
Upon visits with my father during his last three years of life, I observed a more gentle man who was kinder to his wife and clearly more approachable to my children in their youth than he had been to my siblings and I as we grew up with him. He was kinder to his own children also. Although he did not verbalize regret to me, I could tell from his words and actions that he was a changed person – a person I could know, love, and appreciate in ways that I never could before. The last years of his life were a time when he was the same person to his wife and children as he was to others…a person who took the time to care and love everyone.
Coming to Terms
As my father lay in his bed taking his last several strained breaths, and as his pulse weakened and could no longer be felt, I was deeply grateful for the most valuable lesson I learned from my father…that people can change. The change my siblings and I wished for in my father from our youthful years was realized before the conclusion of his life. In the time leading up to his death, he expressed his love for my family, and gave them an opportunity to share that love. While in my childhood I came to believe that I would never get the opportunity to know my father, I learned from his example that there is always a reason to hope that everyone is capable of change, and that everyone including myself needs to change from time to time.
Upon visits with my father during his last three years of life, I observed a more gentle man who was kinder to his wife and clearly more approachable to my children in their youth than he had been to my siblings and I as we grew up with him. He was kinder to his own children also. Although he did not verbalize regret to me, I could tell from his words and actions that he was a changed person – a person I could know, love, and appreciate in ways that I never could before. The last years of his life were a time when he was the same person to his wife and children as he was to others…a person who took the time to care and love everyone.
Coming to Terms
As my father lay in his bed taking his last several strained breaths, and as his pulse weakened and could no longer be felt, I was deeply grateful for the most valuable lesson I learned from my father…that people can change. The change my siblings and I wished for in my father from our youthful years was realized before the conclusion of his life. In the time leading up to his death, he expressed his love for my family, and gave them an opportunity to share that love. While in my childhood I came to believe that I would never get the opportunity to know my father, I learned from his example that there is always a reason to hope that everyone is capable of change, and that everyone including myself needs to change from time to time.
The Lesson of Change
The change that I saw in my father allowed me to reflect on the many lessons I learned from him through both good and bad examples. Over the years I have written a collection of thoughts about topics that are important to me. As I reviewed these thoughts, I discovered that I learned 62 important lessons from my father. I have compiled the most important of these into a list of 20 important lessons that I learned from my father. Although my father was not perfect, and I don’t know anyone who is, I was able to learn many valuable lessons from him – even more than those that I happened to write down. I am grateful for my father, for all that I learned from him, and for the tenderness he shared with everyone before his life reached its conclusion.
The change that I saw in my father allowed me to reflect on the many lessons I learned from him through both good and bad examples. Over the years I have written a collection of thoughts about topics that are important to me. As I reviewed these thoughts, I discovered that I learned 62 important lessons from my father. I have compiled the most important of these into a list of 20 important lessons that I learned from my father. Although my father was not perfect, and I don’t know anyone who is, I was able to learn many valuable lessons from him – even more than those that I happened to write down. I am grateful for my father, for all that I learned from him, and for the tenderness he shared with everyone before his life reached its conclusion.
Foremost, I am sorry for your loss. Dad's (and mom's) matter through the difficult and joy that life brings. You have captured the feelings that many of us experience as we try to wade the waters of family life, aging, and saying goodbye. I emphasize with the growing pains of a slow change, and share your marvel at the realization of the lessons your dad taught you along his journey. Blessings on your family.
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