My dad was 63 when he died of cancer of the oesophagus.
I’m now 63.
It feels like yesterday when he sat opposite me, saying, “So, I have cancer”, and I answered him, “yes, Dad.” I’ll forever remember the look on his face. It was one of realization and acceptance. I could see it in his eyes. It was his moment of truth.
He died three months later. He never ranted or raved, but made his peace with God.
Tonight, I suddenly realized that if I were my dad, I would have been dead by now.
I feel so young. Did my dad feel young, too? Did he think, “I’m too young to die”? If I had to get that news tonight, would I think so, or would I be ready to go? I don’t think I would feel cheated out of life. I don't think he felt cheated, either.
I’m a bit surprised at how much like him I am, but not really surprised at all, come to think of it.
"And", I said to the man who stood at the Gate of the Year,
"Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown."
And he replied, "Go out into the darkness, and put your hand into the hand of God. That shall be better to you than light and safer than a known way."
(The Gate of the Year, by Minnie Louise Haskins)
Take care.
