My mind travels back along the path of my life, events that have brought me to this point in time. I drift along a time line of lost images, thoughts and memories.
I remember waiting for my dad to get home from work so I could show him the picture I drew of something. My dad was always very supportive of my attempts to do something, no matter what it was, he still is.
I remember when Dad took me fishing; this activity above all others we did together was my favorite. He taught me how to fish, what to do, and how to do it. Dad taught me the importance of patience, respect, compassion, and to always do the right thing, all of this while waiting for that fish to bite.
Of all the times in my young life, those quiet, bitter cold mornings 'spent fishing with my dad' will always remain one of my most favorite memories. Catching fish with Dad was fun, but the time we shared together will be the one thing I will remember forever. Those times were ours and ours alone.
My dad is a simple man; he is the kindest, most intelligent, and compassionate man I know. Dad knows more about life than any university could ever teach; I want to be just like him. I would be happy, and consider myself lucky to even be half the person my dad is.
My dad did everything with us kids; scouts, camping, fishing, a perfect role model, but most important of all, the best dad any kid could ever hope for.
I remember going to school one morning, to my 5th grade class, I had not been feeling well but I wanted to go to school and see my friends. While at school, I became very sick, my mother came to take me home.
My mom put me to bed. It must be the flu or some other bug, kids are always catching something at school, or so my mom thought; I continued to get worse. When my dad came home from work, my parents called the doctor.
I barely remember my father carrying me to the car in his arms. He and my mom laid me on the back seat of our old car. I drifted in and out of consciousness as my parents drove me to the hospital.
I awoke from my DKA-induced coma in a hospital bed; I will never again be the same little boy I was.
I was afraid of being in the hospital; I had no idea what diabetes was. I was even more afraid and sad to see my mother cry when she tried so hard to be brave. I felt so guilty for making her cry, I always will.
Dad really never understood the complexities of my diabetes, yet he never failed to be there for me when I needed him, he still is. My mom and dad are the reason I have survived through 45 years of childhood, puberty, the 'real' world, and most of all, 35 years of diabetes.
My mom gave me the best of care during my childhood with diabetes, despite all the frustrations. My father taught me how to grow up and deal with life; together they make a great team.
My life changed forever that one school day, in ways that would only become apparent to me later in life.
We all deal with our challenges in our own way. While Dad and I sat on that cold metal seat of our fishing boat he taught me many things.
Dad taught me not only how to fish; he taught me patience, respect, compassion, and to always do the right thing. I believe our fishing trips were very successful.
Thanks Dad, I love you!
(footnote)
Recently I attended a discussion group about parents, their children, and how they deal with diabetes. This talk was held at the same hospital where I was diagnosed and awoke from my DKA coma. I have never been back to this hospital since I left it to begin my life with diabetes, 33 years ago.
I walked the halls of this hospital, the memories and lost images of that time are still very strong for me. I looked out of the windows I did as a small boy, wanting so much to be outside, away from this diabetes.
I walked the hallways that I walked as a 10-year-old boy, dragging my IV behind me. There are many of my memories living in that hospital, memories that have changed me forever, not all of them for the worse.
I walked into an empty hospital room, one very similar to the one I spent a very long time in before I left. I stood there in the silence as I heard the noises and sounds from 33 years ago. I thought to myself...'this is where it all began'.
Gary
2000
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