God’s Grace and Mercy

In memory of my father, Mark Skeggs

Written by: Bobbi Freeman

I knew something was not quite right when my Dad didn’t respond to my messages timely. My mom said he was staying in bed a lot, and we just thought he was being lazy. He was newly retired, and his best friend had just passed away from liver cancer, so I chocked it up to some mild depression, and I thought he just needed some time to adjust and process things. I talked to him about it on occasion, and he told me he was fine and not to worry. Well, the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months. I knew in my gut that something more was going on but if I didn’t speak of it, then it couldn’t come true. As a nurse, I knew that was not rational thinking, but as a daughter, it was my way to cope.

On, December 8, 2018 my worst fear was confirmed. My dad was diagnosed with lung cancer. He tried to play it off and minimize the severity but being a nurse, I had a lot of questions. He was not prepared to answer them. My dad was always strong, independent, and in control of everything. He was the smartest man I knew, aside from my Grandfather (his dad). As a matter of fact, everyone saw him as the “go to man.” His nickname at work was “Webster.” My dad was a take charge, no holding back, get it done kind of man. He always spoke what was on his mind regardless of his audience, and he was not afraid of anything.

On this particular day, he was not strong or in control. He was weak and vulnerable, and it absolutely cut me to the core to see him that way. He was truly scared and so was I. I can only remember seeing my dad cry a handful of times throughout my life, and this day was one of them.

He just kept telling me to make sure that I took care of my mom. I tried not to let him go directly to the worst-case scenario, but I knew his diagnosis was terminal. I just couldn’t let him give up immediately. I wanted him to try to fight. In hindsight, I realize how selfish that was.

Over the next few weeks, we were at doctor’s offices and hospitals multiple times for scans, biopsies, procedures, consultations, education, and financial counseling. Then, he finally had his first chemo treatment on New Year’s Eve. It was a very long day, but he did well. Dr. Harris and his staff were phenomenal. They were very patient, kind, and accommodating. It really helped to make a very difficult situation easier.

On January 16, 2019, my mom’s 61st birthday, I went to visit dad during my lunch break. My grandmother was sitting with him that day. Dad had gotten rather forgetful and weak because he refused to get out of his bed to do anything for himself, so I had to coordinate with my mom, my kids, my grandmother, and my aunt and uncle to make sure someone was always there with him. His depression got really bad. I was trying to juggle a very busy schedule: managing 2 very busy medical practices, micromanaging all his medical appointments and medication regimens, making sure he was eating & drinking enough, trying to manage both of our households, and basically just having to be everything to everybody. My stress level was exceedingly high, and I felt like I was losing control. I was rather stern with him during the visit. I asked him, “Dad, why won’t you get up? Please, just get up and walk to the living room. You have got to get out of this bed!”. He looked me dead in the eye and said, “Bobbi, I am fully capable of getting up. I just don’t want to.” Before I left, I kissed him on the cheek and told him I loved him. As I walked out of the room I looked back at him and said, “Dad, I need you to get better. I cannot do this by myself.” That night, as I laid in bed, I thought about what Dad said, and I prayed that God would take control. I surrendered to him. If Dad didn’t want to fight, I wasn’t going to make him. But, I could not watch him give up on life. He was my rock, and he was slowly sinking further and further out of my reach.

At 11:04 pm, my mother called me, and I knew. My heart sank –I knew his fight was over. While this was, by far, the absolute most difficult time of my life, I had peace. I knew that God answered my prayer. It may not have been the earthly healing that we had all been hopeful for, but it was the ultimate healing. I knew that God had been preparing me and my family for the reality of life without him. Having to learn how to do everything that he normally did while he was still alive to teach me rather than having to figure it out on my own was all a part of God’s plan. Trust in God’s plan! God showed grace and mercy. He took my dad home without pain, without suffering, and without cancer!

As I write this today through my tear-filled eyes, the pain and heartache still cut deep. However, the sting seems to fade faster. I know that he is in Heaven, rejoicing and cancer free!!

#dancinginthesky