Two years ago, around the early winter time of my senior year, my grandmother on my father's side started decline in her health. She looked like she was going to make it past Christmas of that year. But to all our surprise, and we're happy for it, she improved. But to an extent; she clawed her way out of the dark hole she was in, in terms of her health and has now been slowly declining over the past few years from the level she had clawed her way to. But hey, it's better than nothing. She recently has had poor circulation in her legs, specifically her right one (I could be wrong on which leg though, so don't quote me on that, I can't remember since this has been occurring while I'm away at school), and has under gone multiple surgeries to restore the circulation. In fact, she under went the surgery again last week...twice. Both times the doctors were unable to restore the circulation. So yesterday, my grandmother had her leg amputated. It's unfortunate, but it was the best option; Option Two was to just let the leg die and keep her hopped up on pain meds for the rest of her life which would leave her in a mental state where she really wouldn't be our [my sisters and I] grandmother mentally anymore. So as I just stated we elected to go with option one.
There's a reason though that my grandmother was able to crawl out of that physical dark hole and keep living. That reason is my Father. He is one two children my grandmother had. Both boys; he is the baby. He is also has Power of Attorney now that she is declining in her mental health. Unfortunately, my uncle, his brother, isn't much a help in all the intricacies that have come with keeping her stable physically and mentally. Being alone in making the decisions and actually having to physically follow through on them has really worn on my father and you can see it. But he perseveres and manages to do what's best for her everyday.
My father is my hero and ultimately always has been growing up, but it wasn't until I became older and could appreciate real world situations that I started to learn life lessons from my father that I know will make me a better man. The reason I speak about my grandmother and my father's efforts to keep her healthy is two-fold. First of all just the fact that he is taking care of her is a valuable and respectable lesson in itself. The second reason is because there was a sub-scenario involving him and his mother's health that I was indirectly a part of, where I learned one of the most valuable lessons from my father. Let delve a little deeper into that.
My father is a Lieutenant of the Washington D.C. Metropolitan Police Officer. He is thought of pretty highly among his peers and ranking officers. He also has been a part of some big name things with other federal law enforcement agencies as a liaison for the department. He's earned everything he has received including some of the perks to being well liked and good at what you do. This included an appointment to the FBI Academy for a 10 week program they offer to police officers domestically and internationally. This is a very prestigious offer very few get. My father was given it around the start of my senior year. Naturally we were all excited. We knew things were going to change a bit while he was gone for the 10 weeks, but him and the rest of the family was STOKED!
Everybody started preparing. We were changing our schedules to get use to what it would be like while he would be gone, he was buying the necessities to stay there for 10 weeks, and we were doing our best to get use helping our mom with a lot more fill the void of his absence. Unfortunately just around the time he was ready to go and wheels were to be set in motion, my grandmother started going down hill. We were figuring out how we would take care of her while he was away and all that jazz, when finally my dad came home one night. It was a Friday, around 6:45 PM, he was supposed to leave that weekend. I was downstairs waiting for the hockey game to start, and he came down and sat with me. We exchanged small talk and finally I asked him when he was leaving that weekend for Quantico (FBI Headquarters and Training Facility).
He looked at me and said he wasn't going. He explained that he had respectfully turned down the offer earlier that day at work explaining then and now to me that he just couldn't leave with my grandmother in the state she was in. I was the first person of the family he had told I respected him for it, but felt kind of bad because I knew he wanted this and how big would have been. But I shrugged it off and went back to watching TV with him in silence. Then shit got real.
My father broke the silence with a sigh and looked at me. I looked back at him. He starts saying to me he feels like Kevin Costner's character in Field of Dreams, where Costner is offered the chance to follow his dead father into the abyss within his cornfield knowing whatever decision he made he couldn't go back and the chance wouldn't come again; just like that he felt with this way with this opportunity, he knew whatever decision he made would be final and the chance wouldn't come again. He was telling me all of this with tears starting to form in his eyes and I could hear is voice starting to choke up. I notice was feeling tears about the form but I used all the strength I had to be strong for him because I knew that's what he needed.
Seeing my father almost breakdown as he explained how hard of a decision it was to give up something that would never come around again to take care of his mother and knowing I was the first person he was telling this to truly showed me how much this meant to him. But he doesn't understand how much that moment meant to me. It was right there Andrew White taught me one the most valuable lessons ever.
Opportunities are going to come your way that are once in a lifetime and your not going to be able to take them; not because of a schedule conflict or because you just don't care, but because something just as irreplaceable but more important because so is going to get in the way, and that's the ones you loved. He showed me that night that he'll never put anything before his family and I'm sure friends included, and I know now that I would never either. Because I see how much stronger my grandmother is because of the decision he made. And I see how much happier he is knowing she is doing better than she would have if had left. I learned from my father that night and these following years after that a hero isn't specifically someone who risks their lives for someone else, but a hero is someone who puts the lives of others before their own, period. No matter the situation.
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