I can't keep up with the posts. They were supposed to be a substitute for my personal journal, which I stopped writing in at the beginning of the summer. I'm not sure why.
The blog was/is supposed to be a place for me to record my thoughts on my pilot technology program (grant funded), which as I sort of said, was supposed to be done in my journal. I guess I just put in so much time and effort in at work—and I enjoy it—that I don't really feel like writing much when I get home. When things were more difficult, like during my second year, the journal was something I looked forward to (perhaps because I wrote in it sitting at the bar at Rocket to Venus).
Anyway it has been a while since my last (2nd) post and nothing technology-related has brought me here. But there was something I had to put on the record, although I doubt I will forget it.
My dad is sick. Although it is still not official, “technically”, all signs point to a recurrence of prostate cancer. I dealt with this already seven years ago. I really should say HE dealt with this because it wasn't difficult for me at all. I guess that is probably because it all happened so quickly—diagnosis then surgery—and he was never sick in the traditional sense. The day of the surgery I was nervous, but it was over quickly and everything was fine. My dad was fine. Five years past and he was fine. It was easy.
This time it is totally different. I'm having a hard time dealing with it. I've been trying to figure out why and I guess there are a few reasons.
One thing that being alone in a new city for a while teaches you is how important your family is. It has also shown me how similar my father and I are...or perhaps how similar I have become to my father lately. He is sort of like my hero. Really, most of the things that I think are important quite obviously came from growing up around him: intellect, critical thought, compassion, a need to serve others—especially those who really need it. I have been noticing this lately. For the last few years I have been calling my father regularly, at least once or twice a week, to discuss the latest development in the classroom, the newest, MOST interesting book, whatever.
"I'm 32 years old and I’m still calling my dad this much?" I sometimes think. But there aren't that many people who really "get it". There aren't that many people with which I can talk freely without worrying if I will be understood, or worrying if they will have enough background understanding on a given topic to give me a decent response or word of advice. With my dad, I never have to think about these things. So these are some of the reasons he is so important to me, and it is over the last few years that I have began to really actualize this.
So it's difficult often. But these things happen. I could go into more detail but anyone who might read this already understands. It is hard in a lot of ways.
So what prompted me to post? A phone conversation that I had with my father. More specifically it was kind of like a scream. It was a scream that I have never heard before. It was kind of like a long drawn out "Yeeaaah!"
Now, I have seen and heard my father get excited about a lot of things, both good and bad, but last night’s exclamation was different. It was less joking than others. It was less self-conscious. By that I mean that many times when we shout out about something that makes us excited, we are also conscious of the fact that we are breaking character—at least if we are typically somewhat reserved.
My father and Judy made plans to come out to Pittsburgh a week or so before Christmas and stay with my sister and her husband. Airfare was super expensive and my mother's family still hadn't made up their minds. Of course, the news that we all got from my dad recently definitely put a sense of urgency in the back of our minds. Anyway, I have to work here in Baltimore for three of the six days that they will be in Pittsburgh, and I think that my father was worried that I might only make it down for a night or two. Anyway, as I said earlier, this whole thing has effected me and it really has made me reassess what is and what is not important—actually there was never any assessment involved, I just knew, and know. So, I booked a flight for the middle of the week, and I am coming back on the following Monday.
When my dad asked about the visit, I told him my flight dates and that is when he said "Yeah!" in that strange new way I had never heard before. It was almost kid-like, totally innocent and uninhibited.
I am reminded of a Christmas from my childhood, 10th grade year, 1992. I was supposed to be getting a Macintosh computer. I had never had a computer at that point, and I remember studying the flyer for the computer I wanted (the LC) for hours on end—just looking at the pictures and features over and over and imagining what it would be like when I could explore it! Unfortunately, as the days leading up to Christmas came and went, my father continued to report that it had not shown up at his office yet.
On Christmas day, the morning present-opening ceremony came and went, but no computer showed up. I was suspicious and, according to my parents, pretty damn clever—the only child ever to discover that there was actually a bunch of people (college students) behind the big mirrors at the Carnegie Mellon Campus Kindergarten: there was something strange about those windows—they seemed to serve no real purpose in any sense that I knew at the time. I couldn’t see through them and their was just another playroom on the other side. I found a door and opened it, only to find a bunch of strangers looking at me nervously, some laughing and some looking around as if to say "Uh, is this OK?"
That Christmas morning, I remember thinking that maybe, just maybe, dad was pulling some kind of prank, just messing with me. So I mentioned that I knew he had it hidden somewhere because I had called the company the other day and they had verified that it had been delivered. I thought for sure I had called his bluff. His response will be burned in my memory, verbatim, for the rest of my life:
"Are you serious?! If you’re telling the truth I'm going to be really ticked off because they told me that package would be delivered by yesterday!" I could tell that he was serious and getting irritated, and I felt really bad having just lied to him.
And then everyone just went about their business...for a long time. We did the typical Christmas stuff: My mother and sister played scrabble, I played with whatever sub-par toy I had. At some point my mother mentioned that were out of cream and my father said he would get it. I really didn't think anything of it. A while later I saw someone coming up the sidewalk through a light snowfall. It was my dad, and he was carrying a huge white box with a big colorful Apple printed on the side of it.
"YEAHH!!!"
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