*Photo Above: One of my proudest moments seeing my Dad at the summit of Mount Rainier 14,411 ft. He had cancer, atrial fibrillation and a great attitude.
We sat at your bedside holding hands when mom softly and warmly said, “Charlie there’s nothing more that can be done. It’s time to go to Hospice.” You paused, smiled, and said, “It’s been a great ride.”
You appeared to be filled with gratitude at the moment you found out your death was most likely around the corner. As we packed your bag, mom helped you get to the moving chair on the railing to get you down to the garage to the car to go to Hospice. I watched as you turned around and looked at what you must have known was the last time you would see the home you and mom built. Again, you smiled, slowly looked around the room, and nodded as if to say, “I did good, and I’m ready.”
When things are going wrong, or I’m extremely challenged in life, I visualize your face and your reaction at that moment. I strive to live a life where I can look back, smile and nod knowing I know I did well. It pushes me through fear and to always do the right thing even when that’s the hard thing.
When we first arrived at Hospice, as the incredible staff was getting you settled, a nurse pulled mom Gwen and I aside. She was calm, warm, and direct. She told us you would let us know when it was time and advised us to verbally tell you it was okay to go. Then the doctor shared some of the signs you may experience when nearing the end. One was breathing differently.
People from all over the country came to your Hospice bedside to say goodbye. Your childhood friends from New York walked in and said, “Charlie there’s no way in hell we’re coming to your funeral. We’re here to say goodbye and have a few more laughs. The four of you sat there watching the Masters. I couldn’t believe that days before your death you remained so positive and grateful. You still found joy in the little things like spending quality time with friends. Your visitors all came with stories about what a great friend, mentor and leader you were. The common theme was your adventurous spirit and your optimism – how you always found the silver lining even in the most challenging situations. And of course, your incredible sense of humor!
I remember Gwen deciding if it was the right thing to do to allow your three granddaughters to come and say goodbye. They had a trip planned to Copper Mountain to ski over spring break. You insisted that they don’t cancel, and that the greatest gift to you would be for them to go skiing every day and enjoy themselves. I recall the joy on your face when the kids would text videos of themselves skiing and having fun. It must have been painful for them to know that you may be gone by the time they get back. But we all knew it would be more painful for you if you knew they gave up a day of skiing because of you.
The girls made it home before you passed. They came to say goodbye just days before you died. The smile on your face when they entered your Hospice room could have lit up the world. At that point, you were pushing yourself to find your voice, but when they walked in, you found it. You all got to say goodbye, and I know to this day they cherish the memories of their grandfather…your patience teaching them all how to ski, holding them, taking them to Costco and to get the car washed, and telling them it was going to be OK. You would be so proud of the young women they’ve become. It’s heartbreaking that such an engaged, loving grandfather was taken so soon from their lives, but I know you are guiding them every day.
I remember a moment when it was just you and me in the room. I held your hand, and I remember thinking there was nothing left to say. We had said it all. In many ways it brought me peace. I genuinely believe as a father and daughter we had no regrets.
I’ll never forget being at your home and then getting the call from Gwen who said, “I think it is time to come back to Hospice” because your breathing had changed. Mom and I raced over, and at that point you were no longer able to speak. I recall you reaching at things in the air and tears slowly rolling down your face. I have no idea what you were thinking, but I know you fought until the very end.
Knowing you, the tears were because you knew how much pain we would be in without you. You were always thinking of others before yourself.
I am so grateful to call you, my father. You live on with us every day. You are missed more than you can ever know. Thank you for modeling how life should be lived.
8 years ago today we had to say goodbye to you. Normally I honor you by skiing.
40 Lessons I’ve Learned From My Dad
Today, I cannot do that, so instead I thought I would honor you by sharing what I learned from you:
1. There is ALWAYS a silver lining even in the worst situations. I miss you everyday, Dad. It physically hurts, but the silver lining for me is the extreme gratitude that I have for being able to call you my Dad.
2. Happiness is a choice.
3. Attitude is everything.
4. Laughter is contagious.
5. Start with trust. You may get burned, sometimes but it is worth living life this way.
6. Be aware of where and what you spend your money, but always be generous.
7. There is nothing more valuable than time. It is the greatest gift you can give anyone.
8. Don’t complain if you don’t like the situation then change the way you think about it.
9. Surround yourself with people that are smarter than you, that push you to be better everyday.
10. When you fail, get back up and be present in the lesson you learned.
11. Be adventurous, travel the world.
12. Everyone has a story. Ask the right questions to allow people to share their stories.
13. Always do the right thing even if it is the hardest thing.
14. Stay in touch with the people you care about.
15. When one door closes, look for the one that is open. Sometimes we miss it if we focus on the closed door.
16. Dogs are truly a man’s best friend.
17. Confidence is the most beautiful thing anyone can wear.
18. Don’t judge a book by its cover. If we judge too quickly, it is amazing how much we miss out on.
19. Losing sucks, but it creates strength, drive and greater appreciation when you do win.
20. Stay humble – I remember skiing when I would fall, he would make sure I was okay and then say…good, it keeps you humble!
21. Don’t sweat the small stuff.
22. Be curious and ask the next question. It is amazing how big the world is when you are curious.
23. Being a mentor is rewarding, you learn so much.
24. Live life to the fullest. It is short.
25. You won’t always fit in, and that is okay.
26. Do what you say and say what you mean.
27. It is amazing as a sales guy how the more sales calls I make the more yes’s I get.
28. Remember people’s names no matter who they are or what role they have. I remember touring the factory with my Dad, he knew EVERYONE’S names. Everyone had a huge smile on their faces when they saw my Dad. There was no fear “that the boss’ ‘was on the floor. They all joked and had fun together.
29. Don’t complain about work; it is called work for a reason.
30. Ski fast and enjoy the view.
31. Be accountable and take responsibility even when you make mistakes.
32. Being a leader is a privilege that shouldn’t be taken lightly.
33. Tell jokes often. Laughter is the best medicine.
34. How to make the best Old Fashion ever!
35. Not everyone will like you; it sucks, but it is okay.
36. The outdoors is the best medicine.
37. Put yourself in others shoes before you judge.
38. Stand up for what you want.
39. If you don’t respect and love yourself, no one else will.
40. Stop and smell the flowers. Life is short. Enjoy it, and be present.
