For six years, he had been building a '57 Chevy from the frame up. It's been his ultimate dream since he was a kid. So after being off work he decided he had to get his car finished. He worked as much as he could, but got weaker by the day. Our two sons helped as much as they could, when not working to help him finish this project.We finally sent the car out for a paint job. My husband was still driving but getting weaker every day.
While my dad was clearly saddened by his diagnosis and the inevitable loss of pride and independence, he tried his best to not let it show. He accepted more help than I had ever seen him want or ask for in his life. He learned how to live with a feeding tube, how to talk to doctors, how to apply for VA assistance and how to alter his financial planning for his new reality.
My parents and I live very far apart, but we visit as often as possible. Earlier in my disease, our reunions were more normal: catching up, visiting favorite restaurants, hanging out at the bookstore. We did the things we have always done when we got together. Now, one year after being diagnosed and two years into this disease, it’s getting harder to forget I am sick.
I put it off as long as I could. I buried myself in friends’ lives, picked at frivolous problems and attended an excessive amount of events. I traveled for three weeks straight. I caught up on every T.V. show I’ve ever enjoyed. I cleaned and organized my entire home. And I sorted through every piece of clothing my children own, which took a full three days in and of itself.
Jeff passed away in 2006, after battling for three years. It was a quick ending to a long journey; my family saw him three weeks earlier, then he was gone. Looking back at it almost 10 years later is still difficult, no one likes to think of their loved ones dying, but also it’s been a time to be thankful ALS came into my life.