My father used to be a big fan of the Toronto Blue Jays. Before he got sick we would sometimes go with him to see them play. When we were in the outdoors and caught a rare sighting of this handsome bird, Dad would quip "There's Kelly Gruber." He owned more of his favourite baseball team's paraphernalia than anyone I'd ever known.
He was diabetic since he was sixteen years old, and by the time he reached sixty his condition had worsened to the point where his organs started failing on him. He fought to stay well as long as possible, and did his best to enjoy life and took great pleasure in my two sons, his only grandchildren at the time. He thought they were the neatest kids in the world. Dad passed away peacefully in his sleep in his 67th year after having deteriorated to a wisp of a man - nothing at all like the fun-loving guy everyone knew.
The boys and I were out golfing the other day. It was threatening to rain, but shortly after we got started the sun came out and the weather turned beautiful. My oldest son was having a difficult time with his game, and was getting very frustrated. He was snapping off at his brother and I out of exasperation, and we were all very tense. When we reached the seventh hole, we had calmed ourselves. I told the boys that their Grandpa would have loved to be with us on the green like this, and I smiled to myself as I envisioned how proud he would have been of them trying to learn what used to be a favourite hobby of his.
Josh's first shot on the 7th hole ended up slicing, but not too far from the green on the other side of a small hill. Not wanting him to get frustrated again I cheerfully told him to just toss his ball over the hill and we wouldn't count it. He took his next shot from about 15 feet away from the hole, and we all watched in amazement as his ball careened straight to the hole, ricocheted off the flagpole, which was hadn't taken out yet, came back and rolled right in! The shot was a complete fluke, and we were all so surprised and delighted by it. I gave Josh a high five.
As we were leaving and proceeding through a wooded area to the 8th hole, a lovely Blue Jay landed on the ground in front of me. He paused for a moment, and then flew up into the trees joining another two or three jays high up in the trees. I felt Dad's presence instantly, and realized that he had helped Josh make that last shot. I felt sad and deeply missing him at that moment. The cruel reality that his life had been cut so short by a disease that wracked his body and deprived him of a full life is something that I have never been able to accept.
The incident demonstrated the glimmer that Dad was at peace and enjoying being able to interact with his grandsons in a way that he never could in the physical world. Still, it would be nice to be able to see him and hear his voice again...even just for a second.
-Photo courtesy of my Flickr friend, Michael
Oct 3, 2008
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