My New Year's Resolution: Live Life to Its Fullest

On Dec. 20, 2011, I said the hardest goodbye I never thought I'd have to say to my best friend, my hero... my dad. As many of you know, he has been fighting brain cancer since Aug. 2010, and he fought a good fight, right up until the very end. 

I remember the last time we saw his oncologist, even with the bad news that none of the treatments he had been doing were working, my dad took it all in stride and told the doctor that he'd be willing to do whatever it takes to stick around for as long as he could. I'd never been more proud of my dad then on that day. Unfortunately, there was nothing left to do. 

Just a couple months later, we found an infection on his head where they had done surgery twice. After an overnight stay in the hospital he came home exhausted, so he went to sleep around 7:30 p.m. Saturday, Dec. 17. We thought he was tired from the hospital, because he slept most of the day Sunday, too. But we were able to get him out of bed later that afternoon, just long enough to drink some water and eat a few crackers, which unfortunately did not stay in his system for long. He went to bed Sunday night, and that would be the last time I'd see my dad's eyes open. Nobody knew he would never wake up again.

The next morning my sister, aunt and I tried to wake him up, but he didn't. At least he was still breathing. So we called everyone we knew and told them to come say their goodbyes, because we knew he probably didn't have much longer. On Monday, Dec. 19, I saw every single person my dad loved, whether it was family or friends, as they all said their goodbyes while comforting my sister and I.

My dad once told my grandma (his mom) that the past year of his life had been his best. With everything he had been through because of the cancer, I had trouble understanding how he could say that.  But after that day, I knew exactly what he meant.

Is it sad that sometimes you don't know how much you're loved in the world until something terrible happens to you? Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, but I know how much my dad was loved, and how much my sister and I are loved because of him.

The next day, he passed peacefully in his sleep at 7:20 a.m., with my aunt, sister and I all in the bed with him, holding his hand. I will never forget the last breath he took, and the last time he squeezed my hand to tell me everything was going to be OK, even though he was the one who was dying.  

The next couple of days were a whirlwind of people, food and getting everything ready for the funeral. Then on Thursday, Dec. 22, we held a memorial service for my dad, where I think more people laughed than they cried, which is exactly how my dad would've wanted it.

And finally, he was buried at Jefferson Barracks, where, as a fellow Marine, he belongs. The following is from the speech I read at my dad's service, and I wanted to be able to share it with everyone who was not there to hear it in person, because I think it's something worth sharing: 

While the past couple days have been some of the hardest, I also understand now why my dad said the last year of his life was the best. Since Sunday, I have seen every single person who has helped my dad in the past year, and despite all of the sadness and grief I have felt, it’s hard to ignore all of the love and support I feel from everyone.

On behalf of my dad, we’d like to thank everyone who has helped us take care of him, including Dan and Pam Orf, Ken and Julie Avery, Doug and Laura Smith, Debbie Siwik Bost, Chris Heinrich, Peggy Rook, my grandma and grandpa, and most of all, my aunt Mikey and the Schuman family, especially Frank and Elyse.

Everyone did their part in making the last year of my dad’s life the best, but I think my aunt sacrificed the most, and my sister, dad and I will be forever grateful to you for what you’ve done for us, and most of all, for my dad.

Frank and Elyse: You were the best neighbors and adopted family we could ask for. Frank, you were like a brother to my dad, and he loved both you and Elyse so much, and so do Kayla and I. There are no words to express how thankful we are for all you’ve done for our family, but know that your generosity and love will always be remembered.  

Whether it was taking him out, spending time with him, or bringing him food, all of our family and friends went above and beyond for my dad. While spending time with him was the most important, many of you knew the key to his heart: food.

We nicknamed him “Foodie Bob,” and he was proud of it. He became so used to everyone bringing him food that you wouldn’t be allowed in the house without bringing him something from Penn Station, Stefanina’s, Moe’s, or any other establishment in St. Charles County. Everyone knew he had his favorites.

I remember when I was on my diet, I asked him if he wanted to get lunch somewhere healthy, not greasy. He replied, simply, “Penn – See you there.” Then after any meal, you know what question came next. “Do we have any sweets?” And we’d say “What do you want?” And he’d say, “I’ll split it with you.” Even if it was just a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup.

But in all seriousness, I loved being able to bring my dad lunch every day. And if anyone knows me or my dad, you know we had our staple dishes at every restaurant we went, and most likely it was the same dish. : teriyaki chicken sandwich. McGurk’s: chicken sandwich. Jimmy John’s: Italian Nightclub #9. Stefanina’s: meatball sandwich. Pizza: always the supreme. Racanelli’s: Stromboli.

Most of those places, I probably never even tried anything different, because I knew I’d like what my dad would like. We were creatures of habit, and like my dad always said, “If you know what you like, why switch it up?”

While my dad and I were very much alike, my sister and him also had a close relationship, even when she was away at school. She wanted me to share this. It’s from an email she wrote to him in February of this year, when she was at school in Springfield:

"I just want to make sure you know that you are and will always be the most important person in my life, the person who has made the biggest impact in my life, and the one man I can always count on, no matter what the circumstance is. The love that you give me has and will always be enough to make me the happiest daughter. 

I know I'm blessed with the most incredible dad, and I've never needed anything more than that. All of my favorite memories growing up revolve around you, whether it was in the backyard playing catch, shooting hoops and playing 'horse' in the driveway, riding our bikes on the Katy trail, or just watching cartoons on the couch. Sometimes I wish we could go back to the good ol' days, when my biggest decision was what animal I was going act like that day.

You meant everything to me then, and you mean the world to me now. The support you've given me throughout the years amazes me, just knowing that you would be happy with anything I do as long as it makes me happy is one of the things I've always loved most about you. 

You've provided me with everything I've ever needed and more. Without you, I wouldn't be where I am right now, nor would I be the person I am. You're my rock, the courage that you have is what gives me strength. One day, I'm hoping to be the parent that you are to me, someone to look up to, knowing I'll always have your unconditional love. All I want to do is make you proud. I love you so much dad, more than I could ever explain."

Unknown to us, Dad also wrote a letter back in February, after he had his second surgery and was having a rough time, he wrote little notes to those he loved most, and titled it “Good Words.” He wrote this to me and my sister, and I think that these are words everyone should live by: My wish for both of you is to be happy & successful, living life to its fullest. Balance the work ethic with healthy doses of fun! Always do your best!

Today we celebrate you, Dad. Happy trails.