For a dear friend

My life was fairly stable for a very long time. Go to work, come home, be with the family. It was a simple life and didn't appear complicated. Unknown to me were many things that came out later; but, prior to their coming out it sure seemed normal. Then one day my father had a stroke. Everything changed.

I was blessed in that I was able to care for my father in my home. He was quite aware but couldn't remember yesterday. He couldn't remember where places were. He was still a great guy to be around.

Yesterday a dear friend's father had the same thing happen. My prayers and thoughts are with him. I had to take my father's car keys from him. He could not be allowed to drive. It is the worst feeling in the world to take your father's keys away knowing he will never get them back. It is not just about the driving, it is being forced to limit your father's freedom to protect him and others. It has to be done sometimes and it makes you feel like garbage if you love your father and are proud of him.

I looked up to my father and owe him so much. The same is true for my mother but she died in an instant and I was not there. I don't know what to say to my friend except I am sorry that he will have to go through the same damn thing. His father was like my father, a man who take care of whatever life through at him and did it damn well.

I want to tell my friend what I learned so I can help him. I didn't learn anything except that it feels terrible. My friend is a good man and he will do what needs to be done, his father will be proud of him. His father will get to see him do whatever needs to be done and knowing that he raised a man with integrity, one that does not whine or carry on, a real man. It's tough to be a real man.

I debated writing this, my friend reads the blog. I do not feel it would be right to call him as he has much to deal with at present. It may be a few days before he reads this. He will read it in his time.

These type of events happen in life, we age and things stop working. The strongest of us can need care and assistance. Some of us are unaccustomed to being helped, I was. When my father got sick I needed help from others and had to learn to accept it. It felt great to be unafraid and not need anyone's help. It feels good to be unafraid of this world and this life, to be independent.

A few years back I had a severe depression or something. This young man helped me come back to being me and helped me to get healthy again. I cannot thank him enough and have already seen the kind of man he is. Having met his father I know his father will be proud of him and will give him a hard time. He will be proud of his father for giving him a hard time.

I have no words of wisdom. I have been through it and have nothing to share that will make it easier, it isn't easy. After my dad's stroke I would take him to Vegas each month because he liked it. He was still my dad, he just couldn't drive or remember yesterday. He still enjoyed my cooking and the company of our family. There was never a thought of my dad being put in an institution he was going to be with me or my brother or sister. It was that simple.

I have never regretted caring for my father, it was an honor. It was an honor to return something back to him for all that he had done for me. Honors are earned and my friend has earned the right to decide what is best for his father because his father knows he raised a man who can make the right decisions. He did.

When I had my breakdown or whatever, I told my wife that I feared I was losing my mind, she it was my problem and to deal with it. No sympathy, no love, no care. You never know how people will react to problems. A young man I know was in a horrifying accident a couple months back, he should have been dead. He had a girl friend, she had told him previously that if he was ever seriously injured she would leave. She did not, she has stayed by his side as he slowly recovers. People can even surprise themselves.

I have attended more than 15 funerals in the last three years, many more, I lost count. I have spoken at most of the funerals. You would think I would be good at it by now. Nope, sucks each time. What do you say when people are going through these types of events, you tell the truth, it sucks and I am sorry that you must go through this.

I write what I would say to my friend, it sucks, you will handle it well and do what is right because you are your father's son and I am proud of you and sorry that you and your family must deal with this.