The Hero's Journey: DEATH, Part I
“Greg, I need you to make me a promise before I die…”
I never imagined I’d be hearing those words. It’s 9:30pm, it’s cold, snowing and I just got back to my hotel room. I’m in Madison, WI on a business trip when I receive a phone call from my Dad. He never calls me this late so I know it’s important. He is calling me from his hospital bed in Las Vegas. This is his third ICU visit in the less than 3 months. His tone is very somber and soft. He’s very calm but there is a hint of sadness and fatigue. This is to be expected since he was fully intubated three times in the last 3 months!
We get to talking about his latest health findings and treatment options from all of the different doctors he’s been seeing. Tomorrow will be his 2nd heart surgery. This one is to implant two new stints. Three years ago, in March of 2020 (Yup, the day before they locked down the world!) he had Transcatheter aortic valve replacement (TAVR) is a procedure to replace an aortic valve that is narrowed and doesn't open fully. I naturally try to lift his spirits and project positivity about his health. It’s not working, yet. He then goes on to tell me that he’s not sure that he’s going to make it and that all of this is becoming very hard on him and my Mom. My Dad takes over the conversation and says to me. “Greg, if I don’t make it, don’t leave me here in Vegas…” I chuckle and say, “of course Dad, I wont leave you in Vegas.” The next words he says to me will forever be burned into my heart, mind and soul. “Greg, listen…I need you to make me a promise. If I don’t make it, I need you to promise me that you’ll take care of your mother. It will be very hard on her and I need you to promise me that you’ll take care of her…”
FUCK! We are here, this is really happening. My answer was easy but that was very hard to hear and it forever changed me as a man.
A Boys Life
Dave was born in Centralia, IL in 1952. Later he moved to Southern California when he was around 10 years old…but first, let’s take a second to admire that mustache…ok. The eldest of 4 children and one of three boys. My family has a lot of boys in it. Starting with my Grandfather who had 1 brother. He went on to have 4 children, 3 of them boys. Next was my Dad, with 3 sons. Then my older brother had 3 sons (his oldest has a son) and my younger brother also has a son. So it’s no shocker that we grew up rough and tough! You had to in our family.
Dave knew how to live! He grew up hunting, fishing, camping and exploring the outdoors. A lost form of entertainment these days and a return to our ancestral roots! He handed down those same skills and activities to all of his boys, including many of our friends who also got to experience my Dad and our lifestyle. Those friends now share the same experiences with their boys!
As a child you live in the moment, having plenty of fun without worry. Many of us lost that ability to be present, without anxiety. My dad was great at being present and having fun with his boys! I know he carried a lot of stress, being the head of the household and family. He did a great job of hiding it when we were out having fun, never letting his stress impact us. I recognize this more as an adult. He wasn’t perfect and we got yelled at for a lot of dumb shit we did but in hindsight, it was all justified. We were some wild and crazy kids, doing a lot of stupid things that created a lot of unnecessary stress in our parent’s life. I can say this now looking back as an adult and experiencing my own stressful life. Except my Dad had a 3 boys, who ate more in food each week than he probably brought home in pay! This, in addition to all of the expenses the typical American family has. My respect and appreciation for all that he did for us has only grown as I have grown. He did all of this with one income, often working 7 days a week so that we had a better life than he did.
When he did have time off, it was spent going to “The River” (Colorado River, CA/AZ border). We spent our summers there, fishing hunting, riding ATV’s & jet skis, boating and just having good old fashion outdoors fun! These were our vacations and we loved it. Out there in the hot, sandy desert we learned a lot about life. How to provide for ourselves. How to drive a truck and launch a boat. Our dad taught us how to repair and maintain a house. How to plan and be prepared for anything. These trips helped transformed us from boys to men. Something you can not get going to Disneyland all summer!
PAWLISA
(Pronounced Pa-Li-Sa, like Melisa, but with a P) It’s our family name that he represented well. It’s unique and special. If you have it, know where it came from and honor it!
I’m at my parents house writing this as we’re looking through old photos and its mostly all of us hunting, fishing and camping…with the boys.
I’m grateful to have grown up the way I did. Having two loving parents, playing outside most of the time, shooting guns, fishing, hunting and getting dirty with my buddy’s. Not much has changed except now we’re the adults and to be honest I think it’s even more fun now!
Dave worked his ass off to provide the best life possible for his family. Also so that he can live the life he wanted. One of adventure, excitement, challenges, fun and family! He always put his family first despite it often being a one-way street. You could count on Dave when ever you needed help. He could hold a grudge but would let it go if a close friend or family member ever needed help. I respect that because he taught me that blood and family means something.
A Marine who served during the Vietnam War. Dave volunteered instead of waiting to be drafted. He got a taste of the military life and like most veterans he continued to live the Marine Corp ethos long after being honorably discharged. He was extremely proud to be a Marine as am I, the son of one! As a result we watched nothing but military and western movies growing up. Classics like “Platoon”, “Full Metal Jacket”, “Heartbreak Ridge”…with the perfect Clint Eastwood segue into, “The Good, The Bad, The Ugly”, “Pale Rider”, “The Outlaw Josey Wales”, “Unforgiving” and “Tombstone”. to name a few. Dave loved these films. We could watch them over and over again and we did, even till this day. I have fond memories watching these movies with my Dad. That is the magic of films. In an instant I can be transported back to a different time in my life and relive a memory with my Dad at anytime. For that reason, movies are very important to me.
Permission to Feel
There is no customized handbook given to you upon experiencing a tragedy. It’s not like in the movies. In the film Beetlejuice, after the main characters died they received a book called “The Handbook for the Recently Deceased”. In reality there is nothing to help you deal with the hardest and most emotionally difficult times in your life. It is impossible because everyone will feel differently. There are not two emotionally identical people in this world. We have all been shaped by our life experiences and therefore we will all have different reactions to the same devastating life event. Some care more than others while others don’t seem to care at all. Empathy is rare these days.
I had to be strong for everyone around me. My family needed me and I made a promise to my Dad to take care of the people he cared about the most. I kept so much of my pain inside. Like a duck on water. On the surface, all looks good and calm. Underneath, the feet are paddling and moving around at manic pace. That was I. My outside appearance was that of a Stoic, calm and cool. Inside, it was like a hurricane, far off shore gaining energy and momentum. As it gets closer to land waiting to destroy everything in its path! Once the dust settled and others were taking care of, I finally gave myself permission to feel. I had to allow myself to experience this emotional rollercoaster. The good, the bad and the ugly, sometimes all at once. This is the part that a lot of people can not understand unless you have experienced it. I would grieve alone. Mostly while working out. I thought this would be the perfect mind/body outlet…and it was. Many times and still till this day, all the emotional pain, anger, sadness and regret would come rushing out of me to the point where I could not tell if my shirt was covered in sweat or tears. This was important as it helped me attempt to rationalize what had happen. To accept the reality of the situation, focus on what I can control and begin to heal.
So I slowly started to author my own handbook, literally by journaling. I would highly recommend this to anyone going through anything in life. This daily routine became my own personal therapy session. It awarded me the chance to express all the feelings in a safe environment. I could express all of my emotions without judgement. I would relive each day and dissect it like a scientist in a lab. By doing this I learned how to be a better person. I would look back at each moment throughout the day and find opportunities to improve. Did I say something that was mean? Was my reaction to someones story polite? Should I have responded that way…? Each day I released more pain and I started to feel a little better.
Amor Fati (Love of Fate) became my mindset. “Making the best out of anything that happens: Treating each and every moment—no matter how challenging—as something to be embraced, not avoided.”
The Stage is set…
They say there are 5 stages to grief:
Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance.
I definitely experienced most of these 5, plus a few more. It will not always go in that order. For me Anger was first! I was angry that I could not have done more. I was angry with the doctors who didn’t diagnose his condition sooner. I was angry at the lack of compassion from some family members. I was angry at everything! This led to a more powerful emotion that I feel is not talked about enough and that is Guilt. It can possibly be looped in with Bargaining because I felt guilty for not doing more, not getting more involved sooner. For months I educated myself about the human heart, looking for a breakthrough solution to my dad’s condition.
Acceptance happened right away for me. I accepted the reality of it all as it was happening. I was so involved in every step along the way that I was processing everything as it unfolded. So when the news was delivered to me, I was fully prepared, or so I thought. However as time has passed, nearly every day I would subconsciously forget what happen. My first reaction when I have good news is to call my dad. That instinct still lingers.
I never experienced Denial. The closest I got was struggling to say it out loud or write in a text. I feel many people in my family are still in denial. Some have yet to even acknowledge what has happen. This leads me back to more anger, like a merry-go-round.
At any moment I would be hit with an emotional sledgehammer to the chest. I wave of pain, sadness, fear, guilt and anger would overwhelm me out of no where and toss me around, over and over. Like a surfer wiping-out on a giant wave! I would come up for air, only to be smashed down again and dragged down deeper and deeper into the… Depression. I can honestly admit that I have now truly experienced this for the first time in my life. It wants to fight with me everyday, attempting to rule my thoughts, my life. But I refuse to lay down and give up. Like anything else that is in front of me, I will take it head on! Like the Bison, I will charge into the storm. This emotion, this feeling is like nothing I have experienced before. It’s very powerful and if not checked, can destroy you. We fight daily and I am getting really tired. It likes to sucker punch you right as you’re getting comfortable again. How do defeat an enemy you can’t see and has all the advantages over you?
To be continued…
““A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in.”