In July of 2000, our family went to
Johns Hopkins Hospital for our weekly visits with Deddy. We would drive up on Sunday after church, stay
the night, he would get his treatment on Monday morning, then we would leave
and be home that night. We did that for
about 6 months. But the last visit was
quite different.
One of the first things I noticed
when we got to the hospital was that a number of the normal staff members were
not there that day. We had been going
for so long that the doctors and nurses that worked in the oncology department
became friends. Everyone was always
helpful, supportive and encouraging. I
was surprised that so many were not there that day, but I grew to understand
why.
Travis and I were sitting in a
small room where Deddy would be given an IV that injected the medication or chemo
that he was receiving. I got up and left
the room to go find out what Mama and Donna were doing in another room. When I walked in, a doctor that we had not
seen as much was patiently talking about Deddy and his medical situation. Then Mama asked her, “So what are we looking
at?” The doctor answered, “Probably two
weeks.” Since I had just walked in 30 seconds
earlier, I asked “Two weeks until what?”
I’m standing there thinking…. until they change his medicine? Until they do another scan? Do we skip a week and come back in two
weeks? But the Doctor looks at me and
then back at Mama and had a look of absolute shock and concern at the same
time. That’s when I said, “To
LIVE????????” The Doctor obviously overwhelmed
and upset herself looked at Mama and said, “Oh my God, I didn’t realize that he
didn’t know!” At that moment, I knew
what two weeks meant. That was one of the hardest things I ever had to hear in
my lifetime. I was 27 years old and the
time I had to spend with my father was potentially only 14 more days. I hyperventilated, I freaked out, I was angry,
I was beyond hurt and I walked into another room trying to calm down, but it
was almost impossible. Mama walked in there
and tried to calm me down and said that it was going to be alright. Until that day in my life, I think I had been
a boy and a young man. That day, I became
a grown man and I knew that it was a lot more complicated than “it was just
going to be alright.”
In the time Deddy was sick, I never
cried in front of him. I am convinced
with all my heart that the Holy Spirit helped me in those weak moments to strengthen
my resolve for the sake of my father. I
gathered myself and was able to keep my emotions under control. One of the hardest moments that day for me
was as we left, Travis and Deddy were walking ahead of me. I remember considering that neither of them
knew what we had just heard. I didn’t
tell Travis until we got home. We never
told Deddy about that conversation and to be honest, we didn’t have to. He already knew and he had already accepted
his fate and gained his peace.
During the year that Deddy was
battling cancer, he had a tremendous outpouring of love and support. He had several preachers that visited him on
a regular basis. He had family and
friends around him all the time and I realized more than ever what a blessing his
life had been. One of the friends that
he got to know even better during that time was a gentleman named Ray McNeil,
who owned McNeill Paint. If you are “old
school” from Harnett County, he was “Archie Ray.” I was recently talking to his sons, Jody and
Marty about the passing away of their father last year. They told me that they never realized how
much they would truly miss their father because he had always been in their
lives. Mr. McNeill was 77 when he passed
away, Deddy was 48. I never knew before,
but Mr. McNeill had a battle with cancer around the same age that my father
died. His initial prognosis was actually
worse than Deddy’s initial prognosis, but he was able to overcome the challenge
and live 30 more years. My father talked
to him a lot that year and I’m sure it gave him comfort. In times of great distress, I believe it’s helpful
to talk to people of great faith. I have not met many people in my life with
faith any stronger than Mr. McNeil. Several
years after my Deddy passed away, I was in the shop buying paint and he told me
to come into his office. He said he knew
that what the next day meant to me. He turned
his calendar around and it said, “1:30 PM Bob Brafford my friend! 2000.” He used the same calendar every year and he
had noted significant events on different days.
Obviously, Deddy was important enough to be remembered on Sept 13th.
We will all lose someone close to
us at some point in life. I see people all
the time dealing with health issues, life challenges, even death. I have learned over the years just how
important it is to be supportive of others during difficult times. We live in a world where people can gain fame,
fortune and notoriety for some of the most unusual reasons. But when life is coming to an end…. fame,
fortune, money and possessions simply don’t matter. The person you have been,
the people that you care about, the life you have lived, and your faith in
Jesus Christ are the only things that matter. September 13th, 2000 changed the
lives of a lot of people, especially mine.
Archie Ray McNeil thought it was significant enough to note it in his
calendar.
You see, the doctors and nurses at
Johns Hopkins that had become friends with Deddy and our family, understood what
that last visit was. It was goodbye. It
was not a coincidence that so many of them were not there, it was by design. Although today is a sad day, I also consider
that my father is with more family and friends now than he was on Earth. It doesn’t make me miss him any less. It doesn’t make me stop regretting that cancer
took his life. But it does give me faith
and hope that I will see him again one day. And I believe that faith and hope are two of
the most important things that Deddy left to those he loved.
