Happy Birthday Dad

Today is my Dad's birthday, he would have been 64 today.

My Dad had a rare genetic disorder that caused him to get autoimmune hepatitus during the summer 3 years ago. Apparently his condition was present his whole life, but a case of mono triggered the process by which his liver slowly rejected itself (like after a transport). The doctors said he would get better - he didn't, he got worse and worse until they spoke of transplant. Then they got my hopes up, I was a positive match, they could take half of my liver (your liver actually grows back, one of the few organs that can do so) and give it to him.

I flew home on a Monday afternoon after my Mom called me at work. I left work no knowing if I would come back in a week or 6 months. By the time I got home it was too late, he was too sick to receive my liver, he needed a whole one and his kidneys were starting to fail. He was on a feeding tube and in great discomfort - they called us to the hospital at 2am. My mom told us he didn't want anymore treatment, that it was his time and I have never felt so devastated in my life.

He called us all to the bed and told us kids each one last thing. He could barely speak. The next day they took out the feeding tube and the catheter and stopped the other treatments making him feel uncomfortable. We took him to the same hospice where we took my grandma to a couple years before. They made him comfortable - we waited a couple of days, prayed for his release and God took him home. We buried him in a cold rain that weekend.

I have a picture of my Dad on the mantle above my fireplace. Sometimes I burn a candle or incense next to it - my version of a kamidana (Japanese traditional place of honor in the home - a "God" or "spirit" shelf). Yesterday I started a little book of fond memories for me to write in whenever I feel like it - to forget the pain of losing him so quickly, to forget being robbed the chance to give my Dad life just like he did for me but mostly just to honor him and his wishes.

"Live a good life and be happy" were the last words he spoke to me. They meant a lot then, but they meant even more when my Mom told me he knew I was gay even though I never told him (he got very sick just when I was coming out - I couldn't tell him at the time, it was too painful). I know my Dad wouldn't have understood a lot of things right away but I always knew he loved me and was so proud of me. I miss him so much it hurts, I loved him so much. But I try to move on, to take his message to heart.

My life isn't perfect. I hate my job and how unhappy it makes me. But I'm trying to fix that. It will be fixed I know that. Otherwise I am happy and living a very good life with my family and my friends. I can't ask for much more. I'm doing it for me mostly (you kindof have to if you want to be truly happy) but part of it is for him.

Happy Birthday Dad.