Fall has been a roller coaster of emotions for me from love to loss. There are times in our lives when we seem to be floating through events, whether good or bad, simply putting one foot in front of the other and moving forward. I garner strength surrounding myself with the love of friends and family during these times. This is the account of my Journey and the symbolism behind the phrase, “Going Home”.
The moving van pulled up to our home in late October to load and pack our household goods. We packed our car with as much as we could cram into it for the 1650 miles road trip to our new home. The evening before we left, I received a phone call from my Mom. I choked back tears as I talked to her about Dad. The hospice nurse assessed his vitals and we knew he had days to live. It was his time after a year of experiencing and enduring all that comes with a terminal cancer diagnosis.
Knowing his eminent death, I was hesitant to even start the trip. I felt anguish. I was torn between being with my family as my Dad slipped away and staying with my husband for the grueling three-day road trip. How could I leave this task to him to handle alone? My greatest fear for weeks was my Dad would pass while we were en route to our new home. It was materializing before my very eyes.
My Mom’s tearful but loving voice assured me they would wait for me to be home for Dad’s memorial should he pass while we were driving to our new home. We started our trip early on a Wednesday morning. I kept in constant contact with my two sisters through texts. I would let them know when we were approaching a remote area and the signal strength on my phone might be lost or weak. Each new morning, both Thursday and Friday, I’d text them with the hard question, “Is Dad still with us?”
It resulted in a very quiet road trip for my husband and me. The thoughts running through both of our minds was difficult for either of us to verbalize. We knew our home goods were to be delivered on Monday. Someone had to be there to receive them. I think the breath-taking scenery of our drive kept us both preoccupied from talking about the inevitable task ahead of us.
Shutting Down Social Media in Tribute
Friday morning, as we drove through Oregon, the last day of our trip, I received the phone call Dad had passed. I knew this moment would come. Out of respect for my family and my need to grieve, I sent messages out to announce I was shutting down my social media accounts until after Dad’s memorial. I was concerned about doing this knowing breast reconstruction and breast cancer support never stops.
What I realized is how much love can come from loss. The support and messages I received from my community carried my though the next few days while I spent time with my family celebrating Dad’s life. I felt like a warm blanket was wrapped around me knowing friends and family understood and supported my decision to stop everything I did in my daily life as a patient advocate for breast reconstruction to honor this time of love and loss.
Thirty minutes after receiving the news of his passing on our road trip, a rainbow appeared in the sky. I snapped this photo and shared it with my two sisters in a text. When I saw the rainbow, I felt my Dad’s presence. Ultimately I made the decision to stay with my husband to receive our home goods from the moving van on Monday. The following morning on Tuesday, I flew to be with my family for the memorial. Medallions were placed in my Dad’s casket from his three daughters. My sisters chose one for me with the saying, “Going home”. We each got to keep these medallions after his memorial to hold Dad near to our hearts.
The Importance of Family
My Dad always spoke of the value and importance of family. He always said, “In life, in the end, what is most important is family.” I found it ironic on the day I drove to our final destination to be back home near our own family, my Dad also went home. I think he was smiling down on me. We were both going home. I know he would be so proud to know his first born grandson, our oldest son, read a touching memorial at my Dad’s service. He would be smiling to see our youngest son be part of his Grandfather’s memorial Mass. I couldn’t have made this trip alone and having them both there was a gift.
I want to express my sincere love and appreciation to those who comforted me, sent messages of condolences, and understood my absence from the work I love.