I’m aware it’s been months since my last post. I have an excuse though. A few weeks ago my dad died.
It’s been a few years that the prospect of this event has been on the table. When I moved here to Michigan in 2018 I foresaw this as a very real event I’d be facing. Three winters ago he had to get brain surgery because blood was discovered on his brain. He came out of that a little slowed down, but not out. Then two winters ago he had a stroke. Though it took time for him to recover his strength and be mobile again, he got back on his feet. Then this last winter it was determined that the cancer he’d been fighting for the last many years had finally taken hold and he probably wouldn’t survive to see another winter. That turned out to be the case. On July 27th, three days after my birthday, my mom came knocking at my bedroom door at 7AM to tell me dad had taken his last breath.

I haven’t been sure at all how to write about this, or even if I should. Something like this happens and there seems to be not enough that can be said. It’s the nearest I’ve ever been to watching someone leave this life. It’s also been something I can’t stop dwelling on, yet at the same time I’ve not had any big emotional outburst to it either. I loved that guy, and in the 8 or so years it’s been since I’ve moved here, he and I have just become good friends. I never had any sort of falling out with my dad. He’s always been that stable, mild-mannered example for me.

It was this last week I realized that the experience of witnessing his deterioration over the last several months in particular, I’d been preparing for, and making peace with it. He lived to be 91, was able to have his last days at home with family, without pain, and I had a chance to tell him I couldn’t have asked for a better dad. It’s been a difficult couple months, but I’m getting through it all. One of the many things helping me is the drawing. So here’s some of those to show you.

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