It hardly seems real that 2 years have passed since a telephone call notified me that all our lives had been changed forever. I know, now, that you were already gone while I scrambled as best I could to be by your side from 8,000 miles away. My heart aches to see you one more time; to speak with you on the telephone; to trade sarcastic remarks in an email; to tell you that I love you. I've learned the difficult lesson of not really understanding what one has until it's gone by the most difficult method possible. But, you probably know that.
I've read and re-read the autopsy report and lots of other medical records a hundred times. Diffuse Large B Cell Lymphoma, the same cancer that I battled in 1998, is what they say killed you. Father and son with the same disease but a different outcome. It's hard not to believe a genetic link exists although there is no evidence of any other familial tie for us and while intellectually I cannot feel responsible, the possibility still nags at me. But, you probably know that.
Your mother and I have begged for additional information and explanations as to the why, how and what ifs. I've taught myself more about cancer than I ever wanted to know. We've lodged complaints and begged the bureaucracies for attention but as yet the best we have been able to wrest from the clutches of the responsible are some weak apologies and self-serving rationalizations for the misdiagnosis and lack of treatment. It makes us insane to think while cancer was ravaging your body trained clinicians thought wrongly you were suffering from glandular fever, mononeucleosis, a virus - whatever. But, you probably know that.
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| Dad, Melissa and Geoff - 2009 |
Daily, I re-walk the steps of my life that lead to that fateful day all the while agonizing over the ways I may have failed you as a father while also appreciating the sparks of sameness in our makeup. Regret is a progressive illness for which there is no known cure. While I try to funnel that useless energy into whatever positive direction I can, the sense of opportunities gone for shared experiences can be overwhelming at times. That eerie sound of God laughing at men who make plans rings constantly in my subconscious. But, you probably know that.
As I try to gain a greater understanding of the parts of you with which I was unfamiliar in an attempt to fill the void of a relationship separated by too many miles you'll be amused to know I have developed a passion for remixes and mashups with Kaskade currently my favorite DJ; after you, of course. I can also claim a certain affinity for impressionistic art, perhaps in atonement for a previous sin committed at the expense of one you dearly love. But, you probably know that.
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| Geoff and Jo |
I try to keep a watchful eye over your friends; at least the ones I can with Facebook and text messages. They all seem to be doing well; Michela, Jenn, Mandy, Egg. Scott, Rob and of course, Jo Jo come to mind along with your BJJ mates at Gracie Oceania. They all love you as I know you loved them. I'll see an occasional shout-out in your direction where for whatever reason something happens that reminds them of you and its always something good, or funny, or sweet. But, you probably know that.
Your sisters are doing well. Melissa is thriving in her position with Aussie Pork and living the good life in Canberra (We never thought she'd last a year there, did we?) Carri and Candi are as busy as ever with their work and managing the activities of your brothers in law, nieces and nephews. Your newest nephew, Thomas James, has just taken his first steps in the last month and your cousin Ally has a new special treat of her own: a little girl named Kiley born in May of this year. But, you probably know that.
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| Geoff and his Grandpa Texas |
Grandpa Texas is home after 5 weeks in the hospital. He's had plenty of health challenges and is now under hospice care. Grandma, Mary Kay, Barbara, David and Bob are all doing their best to look after him which as you well know can be quite a job! If you remember I scattered some of your cremains under the oak trees at the back of their home in the Texas Hill Country. It makes me feel like you are there too, watching over them. I took another measure of your cremains to the top of Diamond Head Crater in Waikiki Beach in August and let them fly in the trade winds toward the Pacific Ocean and then visited the spot in the ocean where I deposited a good amount in Maui last year. The sailboat is still moored there: Gemini. But, you probably know that.
In an attempt to Fight Back, I've gotten myself deeply involved in a program of the American Cancer Society called Relay for Life. It's a 24 hour team relay event that has raised Billions for cancer research and programs since it was started by one lone physician in 1985 with a passion to do whatever he could to help eradicate cancer . I signed up to be a Team Captain once I learned that the event was to be held on 6 October; I reckoned it was a message from you, my son. We will raise some money and learn more about cancer while educating others but mostly we'll spend some time living the message: to Celebrate, to Remember, to Fight Back on your behalf and others that must be remembered and supported. Carri, Candi, Sydney, Emily, Mitzi and Katie will all be walking with me at the event to Celebrate your life; to Remember what a special person you are; to Fight Back against this cowardly assassin we call cancer. Lots of other family and friends have supported us in this effort too. But, you probably know that.And, an irrefutable truth that lies in the numerology of this 2nd and every anniversary of your death still amazes me. The date this year: the 6th day of the 10th month of the 12th year of the millenium. 6+10+12 = 28. That's your age today as it will be every year on this date for the next 988 years. But, you probably know that.
