Good People. Bad Things.

As I sat at the kitchen counter tonight waiting for my hot water bath salsa to finish up I was working on pre-school activities I had started earlier and tuned in to the Valerie Harper special on TV...she is fighting terminal brain cancer and was trying to help her husband prepare for life when she is gone...they seemed like the perfect happy couple.  Why would something bad like this happen to good people??...people that truly love each other?

It reminds me all too well of a similar story.  My story. The story of the life my Mom and Dad shared.  The caring and loving relationship they had for each other. It was like the perfect match, soul mates. --and yet a terminal cancer diagnosis was right in the middle of it.

We were young, 16, 14, and 12 when we buried our dad.  My mom only 42. 42 years old without her life partner to help raise her kids when they needed it most. She had to figure out the answers by herself and find the best way to do things without consultation. She was on her own. The pain of knowing the terminal diagnosis and watching my dad the man she loved slowly slip away from what she knew, pains me to this day.

I did not realize the hurt she was going through as we were all grieving in our own ways,  We kept very busy with school, confirmation, work, and sports. It was a way of not having to deal with things--just stay as busy as possible and you didn't for that current moment in time have to feel like someone was laying a 100 pound brick on top of your chest. The pain of grieving is unexplainable. I am sure it's different for everyone.  Every once in awhile I get brought back to that feeling of that blurred year like tonight and I can't believe it's been 18 years because it still feels like yesterday.

 I can remember so vividly waiting for them to get back from Rochester, MN where they met with top doctors at Mayo. WE all had such hope for that visit. I remember going downstairs to my dads office the evening they got home. Things didn't seem right but I tried to just act as normal as possible maybe even goofy to combat fears of the actual reality.  It was then as I sat on the ledge of my dads office desk that he said, "Mirandy Kate, Dad's really sick." I don't even know what else he said-that's all my brain could take in...I knew when they wouldn't tell us over the phone while they were still in Rochester what the doctors had figured out that it wasn't going to be good. Yet I tried to remain hopeful for my dad. Keep a positive outlook that way maybe the cancer would just go away if we pretended he wasn't that sick.  I knew it wouldn't but I didn't really know what else to do.

At night while he was still alive on hospice care in our home, I would lay in bed and wonder if it was going to be his last night. How many things would I have to go through without my dad. It wasn't till I started to list things that it all started to become so real. He would not be there to see me get confirmed, play in a varsity soccer game, graduate from high school, college, or walk me down the aisle on my wedding day. That was a big one...every dad is suppose to walk their daughter down the aisle and soon I will no longer have that vision. No matter how much I didn't want my dad to die it was going to happen and it did.

 I remember my mom coming into my room to tell me my dad had passed away.  It was 2am. I had woken up just before she came in and heard her telling my sister that he had passed-they came into my room --it all seems a blur....all kinds of thoughts were running through my head--as though I had to quick think about every memory of my dad so it would stick with me forever.  Next they went and woke up my brother. My Uncle, Fr. Al-one of my dad's brother's was there at our house along with our family friend hospice nurse Marsha. We sang, said our goodbyes and the ambulance came and took him away.

The reality was there, he was gone. Before I went to bed he was still breathing, no longer conscious but he was still my dad for that evening and still alive. When my mom woke us up that night I knew I no longer had a chance to have that dad that would see me do all those things one day. I had to learn how to live a life without him and that has taken me many years.

I always thought in my head, just give it time--it will get easier, but a close friend who lost both her parents at at a young age as well said it best. -It gets harder with time because the more time the more they miss out on. She was oh so very right.  As I got married and had my first child that reality was all so very present again. I didn't have a dad and my child wasn't going to have one of her grandpa's that she should of had. He would have been an awesome Grandpa. He loved kids and little ones so much. He was a very present, loving and kind father growing up.  One who put his life on hold each night just so he could play catch with us in our backyard. He was silly like a kid, always playing pranks and jokes on us and his friends. He was a likeable guy. His celebration of life was very well attended.

He spent many days of his last year with his brother Fr. Al. He helped him plan his celebration of life down to where the meat should be bought from for the meal served after the service. I am so thankful he was able to share those details with my uncle in that final year. It allowed my mom to be there for us, keep up hope when we needed it most and when it was time to plan, it was already laid out for her.

The days getting shorter, nights getting longer, and the leaves starting to fall -is a always a reminder of the life I had with my dad.  It will be 18 years this October 26th that I have learned to live without my dad. Even though it still hurts to go back to that time in our lives, it's a reminder that I had a dad. An Awesome, Amazing Dad. Those memories will always be the last ones I had with my dad and I am not willing to give those up, ever.

Mathias M. Bitz

Junior

Husband

Dad

Nov. 6th 1951-October 26th 1995