March 15th, 2007 · May 31, 10:15 AM by Mike
I became a father that day, the day my own father passed away, succumbing to a nine-month battle with a rare cancer. His passing was imminent, such that I had said my final goodbye to him the previous night, just hours before his death. I then drove three hours westbound on the Pennsylvania Turnpike to be with my wife, who was due to give birth to our first child in five days. I wanted to be there to support my mother when my dad passed away, but I feared that I was pushing my luck with my expectant wife being so far away, and having the potential to go into labor at any moment.
Five days became zero days.
My mother called me at 6 a.m. when I was getting up for work to tell me that he had passed. No matter how much it was expected and how I had braced myself for such news, the actual words coming out of my mother’s mouth hit me like nothing before.
My wife held on to me, knowing what news was on the other end of the phone. Shortly after hanging up, my wife said, “Michael, I think my water broke.” No matter how much it was expected and how I had braced myself for such news, the actual words coming out of my wife’s mouth also hit me like nothing before.
A flurry of ‘Holy Shits’ followed, as I scrambled to pull myself together and get my wife calm, comfortable and to the hospital. “Was the car seat installed properly? Did her bag have everything she needed? I don’t even have a bag packed…I’ll just take the bag I had with me at my parent’s house the last two days,” I thought to myself.
“We’re having a baby today,” I thought to myself. “Holy shit!”
On their respective paths in and out of this life, we like to believe they passed each other somewhere in the ether.
My daughter has helped me tremendously through this difficult time, even though she’s obviously too young to know how or why. I’m not sure I even understand how or why, but having her there to hold and to love has proved to be a magnificent coping method, though it’s still very, very hard to come to grips with the fact that my dad isn’t here to be a part of it all.
Mike…I have been a silent reader on poofle for years. I have enjoyed your wit, humor, and the way that put things into words. I feel for your loss, as well as your gain on that day. My heart feels for you as I read your post. I am very happy you are back after your previous hiatus. Please keep writing.
— Renee Jun 24, 08:44 AM #