Inside Out by Mark Tewksbury

Author:Mark Tewksbury [Tewksbury, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781443429931
Publisher: HarperCollins Canada
Published: 2013-08-10T16:00:00+00:00

GIVE ME A SIGN

We spread my father’s ashes on a beautiful early summer day. The memorial service had been hard but celebratory, and surprisingly uplifting. My father had been an atheist, and remained a non-believer until the very end. He didn’t have any instructions whatsoever for his funeral and yet somehow, for a conservative man, he certainly had a unique farewell. A female pastor delivered the memorial, my mom’s choir sang, and we planted a tree in his name.

The emotional toll that the disease had taken on our family was enormous. In the first weeks of diagnosis we spoke about cancer morning, noon, and night. Colleen led the research. She was exhaustive, but we let Dad make his own decisions. We bought him a La-Z-Boy armchair, and planted him in the middle of the family room so that he was a part of things. That was at first.

Eventually the horrible time came when we all realized that Dad would not be getting better. We had tried everything, from visualization and belief exercises to radiation and chemotherapy. We even considered experimental clinics in Mexico. But ultimately we had to face the reality that Dad was going to die.

My father’s illness coincided, probably not accidentally, with a time in my life when I was doing a lot of reading and spiritual soul-searching. Perhaps one of the greatest fringe benefits to being gay was that it forced me to constantly question, first myself, then the world around me. I spent many hours by Dad’s bedside reading books, being there for the few moments when he would wake up.

Dad was getting very, very sick. He needed help to do absolutely everything because he was so weak and full of morphine. But he was still heavy enough that Mom and Colleen sometimes couldn’t carry him. One of the most terrifying moments came when I was giving my dad a bath. I was aghast when I saw him naked. He was yellow and shriveling. When we got him out of the tub he was slippery, and three of us were holding onto him for life, literally. He was so frail I was afraid of what might happen if he slipped.

My mom and dad were sharing a bed the entire time my father was ill, and it was taking its toll on my mom. It was a brutal period. There was so much to deal with. I can’t imagine sleeping next to the person you shared your life with and watching this unfold. But my dad had such a force to fight for his life. He was close to death so many times. He was hanging onto life by a thread, but there was no letting go, which was where I came in.

In the gentlest way possible, we needed to find out if there was something we could do to make that transition from life to death any easier for Dad. Unfortunately, my father had lived a closed life in many ways, and in the end he was not able to change that.

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