In my little world, my family is not only made up of blood relatives, but also people that I have known all or most of my life and who I am just as close to as my own family. My Dad met my Uncle Ken when they were married to sisters. Dad, of course, was married to my Mom, and Ken was married to her sister. They became best friends and even after they had both been through divorces, remained friends. In fact, they are both only children (as am I) so I think they bonded more like brothers then friends. And have been that way for 35 years.
Even though Ken was technically no longer my uncle after he and my aunt were divorced, he’s actually been in my life more than my “real” aunts and uncle. He’s always been there and has always been my Uncle Ken. If not for the close relationship my Dad had with Ken, I probably wouldn’t have had near as much time with my cousins, Kenneth (who is two years younger than me) and Jason (who is 5 years younger than me). Dad and Ken made an effort to get visitation on the same weekends so we could spend that extra time together. It was pretty much the only time I saw my cousins. I have some great memories from those weekends and am very grateful that Dad and Uncle Ken saw the importance of nurturing those relationships.
A week or so ago we found out that Ken had been diagnosed with a Lymphoma cancer, there were still questions as to what type or stage, but we thought it was one of the easier ones to treat. He’d undergo some chemo treatments for a few weeks, recover and go back to life as normal.
Tuesday we found out differently. He’s had some kind of infection for several weeks and has lost 30 pounds in that short amount of time. Uncle Ken is not a big guy, so that’s a lot for him. He made the decision to forgo any kind of treatment and chose to do a hospice program from home instead.
Without question Dad and I made arrangements to travel to Arkansas as quickly as we could. We were joined by my cousin Kenneth and his family and got here late last night. Jason already lives in Arkansas, so he had been here since Tuesday as well as Ken’s third son, Alex (who also lives in Arkansas) from his second marriage. I adopted his second wife, as my Aunt Suzanne and have always thought of Alex as my cousin. Dad and I have been so blessed to have Ken and Suzanne and Alex in our lives! They all still call Dad, Uncle Paul and consider him as much their uncle as Ken is to me.
I think as far as my cousins and I are concerned, in our dysfunctional families, Dad and Ken have always been the constants in our lives. They were the two, out of almost everyone, who we knew we could count on no matter what. For anything, anytime, anywhere.
We were all together at Thanksgiving and everyone seemed fine. This has been a huge shock and I think we’re still all in a bit of denial. When I was learning how to walk as a baby, Dad was away in the Navy but Ken was visiting. I took my first steps to him. Of course he was holding M&Ms, but it still counts! He’s always been in my life, in our lives, and it’s hard, even impossible or unthinkable to even try to imagine life without him.
I think there’s always a feeling of helplessness when someone that you care for is sick. You want to do something, but there’s not anything you can do except pray. And even though prayer is a very powerful thing, it doesn’t mean you’re going to get what you pray for. There’s a feeling of helplessness for the one who’s sick, a feeling of helplessness for the family members that you want to comfort, but there’s just nothing that can be said that will make it better.
When my father in law, Butch, passed away suddenly 9 months after Zale and I got married I determined that death just sucks. My Grandmother had passed away just a couple of weeks before he did, as hard as that was to deal with, she was in her 80s and we were expecting it. In fact the nurses called her their miracle patient because she lived several months longer than they ever thought she would. When Butch died so suddenly, it was much more traumatic. There wasn’t time to say good bye. There wasn’t anything anyone could say or do to make us feel better. I know that death is a part of life, we’re all going to meet that same fate. But for those friends and family members who are left, it’s devastating to try and pick up the pieces and go on with our lives.
I think we are blessed, though, to have this time with Uncle Ken. He and Dad and Suzanne are sharing stories that maybe Kenneth, Jason, Alex and I haven’t heard before. Each moment to share with him and this family is precious and appreciated. Even with the sadness of it all, I’m grateful to be a part of it.
