The journey of life

I haven't updated this in a long time and there are some things that I need to say. Anyone who knows me knows that I am normally easygoing, a bit of a smartass, and could usually be found riding with my buddies and occasionally trying to smoke some of the local choads at ILRA or PLRA. My world seemed OK..About two years ago my dad was diagnosed with something called chronic myelodysplasia. It was a disease that slowed production of red blood cells and hemoglobin (Hgb). I didn't think much about it. The doctors told him it wasn't leukemia and that with treatment he could live a relatively normal life although he would need to go to the hospital for blood transfusions when his Hgb was low. My dad did OK for two years. He was slowed physically and got tired easily but still managed to do everything for himself. Then earlier this year he began having night sweats. Not a good sign. He was still going in for transfusions every 3-4 weeks but I could tell he was getting weaker. About 5 weeks ago he had another bone marrow biopsy which confirmed that his disease had progressed to an acute leukemia. The doctor told me he would probably only have 3 months to live (although he didn't tell my dad that I suspect he knew that he didn't have much more time left). My dad went home from the hospital 3 days before his 74th birthday and seemed to be doing well. He was getting around at home and we even managed to have a big party with him. I couldn't even imagine how he must have felt knowing that it would most likely be his last. One week later was my parents 51st wedding anniversary and the next day my dad went back to the hospital again. The fevers at night were getting worse and he was rapidly getting weaker. Seeing someone who you love actively dying is the most empty feeling you can ever imagine. I remember asking my dad if he had been watching the hockey games or any basketball and all he said was " no I've been thinking about dying". What can you say to that? I felt helpless. The next few days were the worst as my dad got weaker he became unable to feed himself or even lift his arms. He took his last breath on May 5th and I can say I was there when he passed. Death is inevitable it can't be cheated. I always knew there would come a day when one of my parents would pass away but I could never prepare myself. I am angry. Mad that my dad won't get to see my children grow up or that my kids probably won't remember him. Zach is two and Jenna is four. At the funeral Jenna kept on asking why Pop-pop was sleeping and the other day she said she hopes he gets better soon from his cold so he can come home from the hospital. I told her not to worry he is home. With death comes a great deal of introspection. The Wiz once told me who cares how fast you can ride a bike the only thing anyone is going to remember about you is what kind of father you were and if your kids turned out OK. I never thought much about it at the time but now it seems so very true. I have also had the priveledge of developing a nice case of anxiety and have had some unreal dreams. It seems that riding my bike is something that I should be doing for my own mental health but I am also feeling guilty when I do because I feel like I should be spending that time with my kids. So basically my riding has been very spotty and uninspired to say the least. There have been guys who have always chapped my ass throughout the years...Baldovery, Speky and R2D2 to name a few but like I told DC the other day...It's like I could be out riding at PLRA and all three of these guys could blow past me and I wouldn't care. So I am trying to re-ignite the passion to ride and race but I'm not sure it is there anymore. RS told me something about adversity making you stronger..I believe that to be true but right now I'm having a hard time motivating myself. I am hoping that this blog might help the healing process along. Right now I need any encouragement that I can get. I will try to keep blogging on a more regular basis........TC