On the 45th eve of my dad’s passing, I was reading some hand written notes by my mother. Talking to dad on one of his last days. I was struck by a few lines that stated dad was upset that on one of the last time I was to see him I had a very blank look, and wasn’t showing any emotion. But inside I was crying and no idea why I didn’t show it. I have lived with this guilt I guess from that day. We did get to visit one last time and he told me he was proud of me, I told him I would never forget him. He was funny, kind, and a gentle soul, always wanting to help those around him. We were close growing up, but somewhere along the way I started to rebel and pretend I didn’t like to hang out with him doing chores around the yard, but honestly these were my favourite times. He had a habit of making up songs, one was called ‘Scott of the Arctic”, he was singing it one day and for some reason I told him I hated that song and never want to hear it again. I think I wanted to go play with...
A personal story of living with Familial Adenomatous Polyposis (FAP), and life after The Whipple Surgery.