yesterday (september 9) it's been a year since my stepdad passed away - for a while, i was having mixed feelings about the whole thing, but prevailing winds dictate that he is missed by us all (my mom, my brother, his two kids, me not the least...)
born in 1935 somewhere in Louisiana bayou country, he and his seven siblings did not have an easy life - he ended up serving in the Air Force for 20 years, got married and had three children - he traveled all over the world and moved his family to california - his youngest daughter died at the age of four of some type of cancer, i believe, leaving behind a brother, a sister and two grieving parents - after that, his marriage ended and he migrated to texas and then florida, where he met my mother, who was herself recently divorced from my father - after a couple of years, they got married and were together (ostensibly happily) for 25 years - he drank and smoked more back then, like a lot of folks did - they both worked hard, danced to zydeco music, went on trips and had a good life - eventually he gave up liquor but clung to his smokes
as he was entering his seventies, his health began to deteriorate - now he was dealing with chronic back pain and Parkinson's-like symptoms (which include the inability to write legibly, difficulty swallowing, speech impairment and mobility problems) he grew frustrated and short-tempered - his sense of humor evaporated and he became critical of everything we did - nothing we did was good enough, he found fault with everything - it's difficult to be compassionate when someone's being berated on a daily basis, but we kept trying - in the end, he made some questionable decisions (we thought later that perhaps his judgment had become faulty due to pain medication he was taking) and finally, after several visits by EMTs he went into the hospital, where he got weaker and then died
i don't think he ever imagined it would end that way (none of us did) but i suppose he was sick and tired (literally) of continuing to live with his difficulties and the constant pain - the strain on his heart and other vital organs (all compromised by this time) seemed to be too much - he told my mother "i don't think i'm going to make it" (one of the few things he managed to say, since most of the time he was under sedation and on oxygen) he even told the doctor he was "ready to go" shortly before he breathed his last breath
i tell this cautionary tale not to besmirch his name but to illustrate that the human condition is transitory and mutable - we are all attached to our own silver cord and when our life force ebbs we must grab it and follow it back "home" to learn our lessons and prepare for whatever is next for our soul's growth (one of my favorite movies on this topic is albert brooks' hilarious yet poignant "Defending Your Life" with meryl streep, rip torn, lee grant and buck henry - another good one is warren beatty's 1978 comedy "Heaven Can Wait" where beatty is teamed with the wonderful jack warden, james mason, buck henry - again! - charles grodin, dyan cannon and julie christie: it's a brilliant remake of another great film, 1941's "Here Comes Mr. Jordan" with robert montgomery, evelyn keyes and claude rains)
to sum it all up, he was a good person who, under duress, said and did things that were out of character and not up to his own standards, but he did the best he could and eventually welcomed death quietly and bravely, like a good soldier - for years he fought the good fight and made a good life for himself and my mom - he was like a second father to my brother and me - he loved his own kids, and he loved my mother, although they were often see-sawing between sweet devotion and bitter agitation, like so many couples who have been together for 25 or more years - i choose now to remember him as a nice guy who was always there for us and made us laugh - he has gone on ahead to complete the hero's journey and figure out where his next path will lead - rest in peace, A.J. - we miss you
