Immortality

My dad has always been a rock. Although this makes it hard to talk to him sometimes and often it causes family tiffs, he is always there. Daddy has always run around from place to place, working on projects from houses to computer software businesses, not even stopping his progressing family as he has 11 children and one due in May (ranging from 34-0 years of age).

And even though I could never talk to my dad about my feelings, there wasn't anything that I couldn't ask for his advice about, from toilets to cars to computers.

The last time that he was in Utah was only a couple of weeks ago for my brother's wedding. My neice Elise asked him "Grandpa, when are you going to die?"

to which he replied "Never. I'm planning to live for at least another 20 years."

My sister Sara and I looked at each other dubiously, he is very stalwart and brave, but it seems a bit foolish to say that you are never going to die.

But who would have thought that it would have been such a foreshadowing conversation.

As I sat down for class tonight I received an email from my step mom annnouncing that she just wanted to let us all know that my dad was in the hospital because he had lost a lot of blood from internal bleeding. He was in Las Angeles for a business conference and was supposed to present, I only know because I called him yesterday afternoon and he told me. And now.

I don't know what happened exactly, I called my sister Sara who was on her way to Las Vegas to babysit my sister Susan's children as Susan had driven to Las Angeles. And no one seems to be too certain what has happened. But it's a little scary. I think the uncertainty of it all is what gets me the most.

Or maybe it's the fact that I feel like I've held a lot of enmity towards him and a lot of things have gone unresolved. And suddenly it all seems silly, taxes, family fueds, misunderstandings, divorce, childhood dreams dashed, things that I've held onto for so long that don't even seem to matter any more.

And then, when it's all gone, the only thing that remains is a question.

What's left?