It was 2 years ago today that he called us all together into his hospital room. He looked at of us and after a moment he spoke. He told us how proud he was of each of us and of the people we had become. Then, with a strength I didn’t know he still possessed, he told us he was done fighting. He said his decision was to stop all treatments and go into hospice as soon as it could be arranged. It was almost like watching or listening to an over acted drama scene on daytime television, only it was very real. We were all stunned and shocked by the finality of his words. He faced what had to have been the hardest decision concerning his life with awe inspiring strength and courage.

I was supposed to be leaving the next morning for a week long camping trip with my wife and kids. Should I go should I stay? I pulled my mother aside and asked for her thoughts on the matter. We talked briefly about it and agreed that nothing would probably happen for a couple of weeks and that I should just go and relax, try and enjoy part of my summer.

We packed up the camper and headed for Race Point on Cape Cod, one of our favorite places to visit with the kids. Race Point is one of a few shore beaches that you can visit in the U.S and see seals and whales while relaxing in the sand. We quickly setup the camper and armed with a picnic lunch, sunscreen, and fishing equipment, headed for the beach. It was a picture perfect New England beach day. The weather was incredible but the fishing was slow. A very large old seal had setup just out of casting distance from me keeping all the fish away. He stayed and swam around for hours, mocking me from a distance. I observed him several times staring up into the sky watching a kite someone was flying near me. I’m sure that he thought it was some sort of strange bird circling overhead and was just curious about it.

Having had enough of being mocked by the old seal and the heat, we headed back to the campground. I called my mother’s cell phone to check in and see what progress had been made in getting my father moved to hospice. My aunt (his little sister) answered Mom’s phone and filled me in. They were already at the hospice as the hospital had transferred him over about an hour before. While she and I were speaking he passed away.

The next several hours were a blur. I remember throwing my cell phone and pulling over so my wife could drive. I think breaking down camp went quickly but I don’t recall much of it or the drive back to Worcester. They held his body at the hospice until I arrived to say good bye. I stood in shock unable to move or speak as I stared down at him. Nothing I had to say seemed adequate. So I did what I felt was right, I told him I loved him and confessed to breaking his tractor and promised to fix it. The funeral service was nice and I delivered the eulogy. To date that is probably the hardest thing I have ever done.

It’s been a tough two years and it was made easier with the loving support of my family and friends. The pain hasn’t faded, it certainly doesn’t hurt any less today, I just deal with it better. I keep expecting to hear him say “Hello hello hello” as he walks through my door for a visit or to hear him call me by my nickname as he says goodbye on the phone.

I’d give anything to hear him call me Mouse just one more time.