Lessons for Living

These past months, since my last posting, have been the saddest of my life. My precious dad passed away just slightly a month after his 90th birthday. He had been in and out of the hospital since the end of March and true to his personal motto and keen spirit, he never gave up hope that he would spring back. Hope does indeed spring eternal; the golf course was always in his view. Mine too.


I learned so much these past few months. First, no matter how great the medical care - and Dad did indeed receive excellent care here in Ithaca - one must have an advocate who is knowledgeable and engaged in your care at every step. I had the privilege and honor of being my dad's advocate. Guided by his medical background and my knowledge of the local health care system , we were able to turn - the - tide after five months of ups and downs and frequent hospitalizations. Dad was finally recovering and he was ready to go again, to be fully engaged in his life as he had always been, which leads me to the next thing I learned in this process.


If you are blessed, like our dad, to remain fully present and mentally alert, then stay engaged. Dad did just that and truly he never got old until the day before he passed. With positive news from his cardiologist the week prior, Dad had begun driving again and walking the mall to regain his strength. Even when we he started having problems again and knew that he would likely need surgery, Dad was planning to travel to Pittsburgh in July to attend his grandson Noah and new granddaughter Michele's wedding celebration; meet his new twin great grandsons, Jonas and Jude, hug their big sister Jarah, and their parents Jason and Janelle; celebrate his 90th birthday; and hold a dinner party for his Pittsburgh friends. This was to be followed by a birthday celebration with his Ithaca friends sometime in August. Dad was even thinking about playing golf. He had ordered a new book on the physics of golf and he had also ordered more memory for his computer. Both arrived during his last days in the hospital. Obviously he was fully engaged in his life and moving forward.


When people pass there is a tendency to think about all the things someone didn't get to do. I think we need to focus on what someone did get to do in the period leading to their last days. In my Dad's last month, my sister Ellen and my brother Mark and sister-in-law Susan came to visit. These visits served to brighten his spirit and turned out to be a gift for everyone. In June, we had our usual Father's Day celebration with his youngest grandson Max(my son), granddaughter Nansa, great granddaughters, Myagaa(14), Zoloo(17) and three - month old Van. We shared this one last dinner, all of us gathered around the kitchen table as we had done hundreds of times before when we all shared a home in Trumansburg and then over the past seven years.

Dad and I went out to dinner twice the week prior to his last hospitalization. We went to lobster night at the Antler's, his favorite place, and then on Saturday took a ride through the Plantations. He started to have difficulty the Monday before he passed and we visited his wonderful doctor, Sanjeev Vohra on Tuesday. Even the thought of another surgery did not daunt his spirit. He just wanted to get it over with and get on with it. That Tuesday night he requested dinner and specified just what and how he wanted it. I happily complied. It was his last rally and his last dinner at home and I am grateful for that meal and all the other meals and conversations we shared together these past 11 years as housemates.

I am glad, as hard as it was for all of us, that Dad was surrounded by his children, my brother Mark, and sister Ellen and that he saw Max and Nansa on that final day. Dad didn't linger and I am extremely grateful for that and for all the incredible care that he received from his doctors, nurses and aides at Cayuga Medical Center at Ithaca. I am also personally grateful for the support they provided for me. Dad accomplished a great deal during his life and even in those last several weeks he lived fully engaged. His journey was remarkable. He was an example for our lives.

At his graveside service in Coraopolis, PA we read a Longfellow poem that he asked for in his final letter to us all. It speaks so perfectly of Dad's philosophy of life and how he lived. It is just how he would have wanted to be remembered. I share it with you.


A PSALM OF LIFE
WHAT THE HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN SAID TO THE PSALMIST

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.


Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Find us farther than today.


Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.


In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!


Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,— act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!


Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;


Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.


Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate ;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.