Do you have things that stick in your mind? Emotions that are intertwined so closely you cannot separate them? Like the day that President Kennedy was shot or for the younger generation 9-11. Days in history that you recall..exactly where you were and what you were doing?
Twenty Five Years Ago:
Far Guy was on temporary duty in Florida, at Tyndall AFB. We lived in Moorhead, Minnesota back then. Both of the girls were in school..it was a weekday..maybe a Tuesday? I was in a hospital room in Fargo, North Dakota.
My Dad was in the recovery phase. He had been diagnosed with bladder cancer, he had a biopsy earlier, and then radiation treatments before the big surgery. We did not know what the prognosis was going to be, the Doctor felt that he had done all that he could…for the best result. The surgery was very painful, my Dad doesn’t remember much of what happened, but the rest of us do. One time during that long day of his surgery, my Mother broke down and began to cry. I told her then the same thing I would tell her now. I said “Mom, God loves Dad more than both of us put together and he will do what is best for Dad.” I am not sure that I would have made the same decision that my Dad did..as the outlook was bleak..he could have the surgery and have a very small chance to live or do nothing and be consumed by cancer in six months.
I was sitting there in that hospital room, watching TV when the Space Shuttle named Challenger with the luckiest teacher in American lifted off. It was at the moment when the space craft exploded that I realized that we are never guaranteed anything in this life. We can be here one minute and gone the next. I was shocked and deeply saddened for the school children of America, and all the friends and relatives that were on the bleachers that very happy day that turned so sad in just moments after lift off. Their loved ones didn’t have a chance for survival.
My Dad had a chance, he survived the removal of his bladder. Is life different for him? ..yes it is. Sometimes he gets discouraged..but he keeps on keeping on. He leads a very active lifestyle.
The young Doctor that did my Dad’s surgery was only in Fargo for a short time. My Mother is convinced that he was sent to Fargo specifically to do my Dad’s surgery, after all these years I still remember his name. Dr. Ural. He was a urologist…and perhaps part Angel too.
Spring of 1986, Jennifer, Kirk, Mom, Ellen, Ben, Trica and Dad. This photo was taken in Louisiana, we went down to visit my baby brother and his family. Of course all these children are 25 years older now…and so is my Dad:)