I had stopped running in early May when I came down with a case of shingles. While I could have run, the pain in my shoulder was such that it hurt to walk. I walked mostly with my hand in my pocket to keep the arm from moving, and moving at a run seemed not to be a wise thing to do. The only thing that kept the pain at bay and allowed me to sleep was a prescription of Vicodin.
I found out after a few weeks of taking Vicodin, that 4 or 5 day for a couple of weeks was more than enough time to build up a nice little addiction. I realized this when I cut back to only 2 as the pain started to subside. The next day I had sweats, a mild fever, nausea, and a runny nose. Once I figured out what was going on, I made the decision to stop the Vicodin entirely. June and I had a 9 day vacation planned, and that seemed to be a good time to go cold turkey.
But, vacation was not to be. A few days before it was to start, I got the call I had been expecting for some time. My Dad had just been hospitalized, and it was decided that he should go directly to hospice care. It was my Dad's decision that if all possible, to die at home instead of a hospital. So, hospice care was set up there.
I did get there in time to be with my Dad as the end came. My brother and sister were also there. Thankfully, it was pretty quick and my Dad didn't suffer too much.
He was my first coach, starting way back in what was then called Buddy League baseball. I think that was when I was 8. After that, he coached my Little League team. He also coached several of the different age groups of football teams that I played on as well as a few of the basketball teams. Years later, when I first started getting serious about running, I mentioned to him how much I enjoyed running, and wasn't it a shame that I didn't start when I was young. He replied, "You probably enjoy it so much now because your didn't do it earlier." He was a wise man, and I miss him greatly.
Dad, dressed to play basketball with his company team.
Mom and Dad on their back deck.
Me and my brother Bob. He moved back home to take care of my parents as they needed more assistance the last few years. I can't thank him enough for all he has been doing the last few years.
Me and my sister Diana. She also took on a lot of the responsibility in the care of my parents, dealing with insurance, etc. Perhaps the hardest thing in dealing with all of this was being 350 miles away, and not being able to be there when needed. Having both my brother and sister still living in Knoxville as been a blessing.
As hard as all this is on me, I know my Mom is having a much more difficult time. Mom and Dad knew each other since grade school, and were married for 62 years. Here is a great shot of the two of them and me at the local swimming pool.
I'll miss you a lot Dad, you were a great father.
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