One of the greatest days in a dad’s life, and the one that makes him what he is, is the birth of his children. But it doesn’t take a card reader or psychic to predict the cycle of life; with the birth of one come the death of others. The moment the boys were born, I knew there would come a day when I would have to deal with my own father’s mortality.
No one wants to think about the death of their parent. Someone once said, “You’re not a man until you see the death of your father.” This doesn’t mean to go around waiting for something terrible to happen, but like a prediction from the oracle, it’s been said and the rest is a waiting game, so to speak.
Ideally, that waiting game is a series of incredible events. My boys had some great events with their Papou. They got to spend time at the beach with him where they played in the sand, swam in the surf and ate fresh seafood on the docks. They worked alongside Papou on landscaping projects, and helped him water plants. They worked with him in our shop and made wood projects and repairs. They went to ball games and museums together. As a family, we celebrated birthdays, holidays and anniversaries. There were many memories established and the boys will have vivid pictures of their Papou, which are tremendous and significant.
Unfortunately, Papou succumbed to a brain tumor. The nature of this condition was that it began in February and continued to grow through the summer, with a very apparent scenario obvious to the adults, but still vague to the children. The timeline was unclear, but by the middle of the summer it became more certain. Family trips no longer included Papou, and his visits to our house were less frequent. He no longer drove and time after time when the boys would visit him, his mobility became limited. His faculties were intact to the degree they needed to be to engage the boys, and he would often ask about their goings on, but they realized there was something wrong with him.
My wife and I knew we were going to have to address the situation at some point, and that time came a few days before his death. He became bed ridden, and the boys hadn’t seen him for a week. I made the decision to tell them, not sure what they were going to say. Max told us it was alright because Papou would be in the clouds. Colin cried and was grief stricken for about thirty minutes, but there was no question we did the right thing, because the boys were given the opportunity to deal with the situation. To our surprise, Colin told my wife and I that he wanted to see Papou before he died. We decided to agree to his request and the boys saw their Papou just a few hours before he died.
This will surely go down as one of the best decision I have made. I had no idea how much capacity my son had to deal with this situation, nor the effect it would have on the understanding he would develop. It’s hard to tell what the right way is to handle something like this event but more times than not it seems like children are their best resource for decision making.