Last night was senior night for James. It was a really nice night and he got to play a lot in the basketball game they played. Even made a few baskets, which is always fun to see. He makes all these gestures that look like he’s showboating, but he’s really just having fun. Overall, it was a good night and it belonged to James. As badly as I miss Randy, I tried to put the evening in its proper perspective and focus as best I could on James. But it wasn’t easy….
Which brings me to point of today’s post – fatherhood. Being a parent has always been hard for me. Jen and I started having children when we were so young, we had to learn how to be parents as we went. And 4 brief years into that, Randy gets diagnosed with brain cancer. We barely had a handle on just raising him, let alone now dealing with this new situation. Oh, and we also had a small daughter to take care of, because by this time, my beautiful Jordan had been born. So, Jen and I faced a lot of obstacles as young parents that NO parent at any age should have to go through. Cancer treatments, traveling to those treatments (mostly Jen), uncertainty of what comes next, navigating the storms of having a “cancer kid”, raising our other 2 kids, trying to keep a job and insurance…..I could easily go on and on. And as if all that wasn’t enough, we now have to cope with the worst thing imaginable for any parent – laying one of our children to rest….
We started a journey together July 26, 1995. And through that journey, Jen and I had 2 other amazing children (Jordan-Marie and James Lee), met some awesomely strong special needs kids and parents over the years, went to Disney World several times, and had incredible family moments and memories that I’m truly grateful for. Make no mistake – Jen and I did NOT take the easy road. Through the years, we definitely had more than our fair share of struggles. But with those struggles, there were also good times, tears and laughter, darkness and magic….in the 25 years Randy was on this earth, we did it all and then some.
And that’s where the sadness comes in. What do we do now that Randy is gone? All those memories, good times and bad – there was the 5 of us for so long, through so much of it. Now, it’s down to 4….and the loss of Randy echoes through everything we do. Sometimes, it feels like the only motivation I have is to self-destruct. As a father, I don’t only feel the pain of his catastrophic loss, but I also feel like I failed Randy. I couldn’t protect him when he needed me the most, and I couldn’t save his life when I tried. I always thought of a father’s role as that of a protector. So losing Randy wasn’t just a loss….it was a complete and utter failure of a father to protect one of his children. I still struggle with that….
For the love of Randy... 