We’ve All Been Ashore Too Long
A card game. What a simple idea! Little did I know what a journey it would be!
One of the first people I couldn’t wait to talk to was my dad. Before I tell you about that conversation it’s important to share with you who my dad is to me.
My dad is my best friend, through thick and thin.
We have always chattered away and solved life’s problems. I have grown up as a wee sprout adventuring on the back of his bike as he tore through the mountains like a wild man with me giggling away in the face of danger.
He’s taken me all over the world teaching me about the vulnerability and strength in our humanity. We’ve sailed the high seas in storms with waves two stories high where I was strangely reassured at the wild look in his eyes.
He’s taught me about kindness, unconditional love, adventure, passion, and integrity. He’s both my mother and my father. He has always listened to my constant creative endeavors and encouraged me to ride it all out and if it doesn’t work, keep going because it’s the joy of the journey and nothing is impossible.
When the circus of life seemed too busy and chaotic, my dad would always say, “we’ve been ashore too long KK” meaning - the things we think are so important every day fall short in comparison to the simplicity of hopping on a boat and sailing into the sunset where all your friends are dolphins and seagulls. Where there is simply - joy.
Several years ago my dad told me that he had several neoplasms in his pancreas that needed removal. I remember my head spinning when he told me and I felt nauseous.
There was no one in my life like my dad. The expansiveness of this hit me hard.
After several surgeries, five hospitalizations from post-surgical complications, a 50lb. weight loss and walking on the edge of death, my dad started his journey of recovery.
After working as a palliative nurse practitioner, I now realize that if he had not been so incredibly healthy going into that year, that would have been my last year with him.
So, of course, I was excited to tell him about this new idea and get his perspective! He patiently listened and asked what I’d call it. I rattled off some random titles then he said what about “Elephant in the Room?”
Death, sickness, aging, grief - they are all the ginormous elephant in the room. It was perfect.
In that exact moment, as he spoke those words, the game became a reality.
*** My dad is several years out from that intense year and healthy - riding his bike 40+ miles several times a week and calves of a 30-year-old. He has been a huge contributor and inspiration to Elepahnt becoming a reality. #grateful
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“We’ve been ashore too long.”
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Walking outside into the frozen air
my nose hairs stiffen
as I scrap the windshield with a credit card.
That long walk down the hall
my heels echo in the night.
The cold ride up the elevator
and the smell of antiseptic mixed with death.
You sleep in the bed
a beautiful skeleton of the man I knew.
The sparkle in your eyes
transformed into a placid surrender.
I sleep with my scarf
across my eyes to keep the light out
and jump up each time I hear you stir.
I hold you as you stand there
in darkness,
change your sheets
all drenched in sweat
and swallow my tears
as you say, “I am sorry punkin,
my clothes will dry, it’s ok.”
I sit on your bed
your lips moving
“just want more time
more time for us…”
The look you give me
through your tears.
I hold your hand.
This is not it, this can’t be IT.
There’s more
more to our story.
More laughter, more stories,
more adventure, more wisdom
for you to share.
More.