Dear fellow OSAers. I covet your prayers. I'm afraid that I am about to lose three members of my family all at the same time. 
Here's what's going on...
My stepdad.
Well...he's not really my step-father. Let me explain. He is the father-in-law to Mrs. GED's best friend of 35 years. We first met Dick Morris when his oldest son Jeff and Mrs GED's best friend Stacey, married back in 1989. When I first met him, I was amazed at how uncanny his resemblance (and everything else) reminded me of my own father. They walked alike, talked alike, looked alike, hell...they even sat on the couch the same way.
Anyways...he was a cop like myself, so INSTANTLY we hit it off. As the years passed, we shared lots of war stories, births of children and grandchildren, witnessed anniversaries, good times and bad times. He was there for me when I made some wrong decisions and I was there for him when he lost a son. We just became family over the years.
Less than 4 months ago, he was diagnosed with advanced lung cancer. Inoperable.
This man, that I had grown to love as much as my own father, whom I had affectionately nicknamed "pops" has significantly went downhill ever since. At first I thought he had given up. Nah. The cancer is so strong, it has just chewed him up and spat him out. I saw him two weeks ago and he had lost all of his hair and went from about 170 pounds to 140. He could still get around (slowly) with the aid of a walker but just little steps.
I saw him yesterday and he looked like a prisoner of Auschwitz. He probably weighed in at a buck fifteen, couldn't get out of bed and couldn't even squeeze my hand. We talked for a minute or so and even that was a struggle for him. He faded off to sleep in the middle of a sentence and I left him and visited for a while with his son Jeff. When I left his home a few hours later - with tears in my eyes - I realized that more than likely, I had just saw him for the last time and considered this visit as my good-bye to him.
He will be missed.
The next on my list of those that will probably go faster than expected is my father-in-law Charlie.
Good ol' Charlie Walker has been in my life for the past 30 years. He has helped me with more tasks than I could even fathom. For an old cowboy who left school in the 5th grade and worked on a ranch for over 60 years, he's is plenty weathered but he still drives (God help us!) he still gets around pretty good and he's probably in better health than most men half his age (he's 86).
Until recently.
For the last month or so, I've noticed that Charlie has lost that spring in his step. He's always used a cane (for the last 4 or 5 years anyway) but lately he's resorted to a wheeled walker as his personal assistant. A week ago, we found out that he has a cancerous spot on his ear that was removed yesterday. We'll find out in a week or so if it's something more we need to do or if that was it.
But sadly, it might have already inflicted some damage because pe-paw (my grandson's name for him) just seems to get a little slower every day. Charlie has been living with us for the past year or so and usually his daily routine was to have breakfast around 7 am and by 8 o'clock he was out the door. Most nights, he wouldn't come back until damn near dark! But for the last month or so, he's been going to the senior citizen's center to have lunch around 11am and then he returns by 2 or 3 in the afternoon. By 7pm he is in his room with the TV on and that's where he stays until the next morning. Even then he doesn't emerge from his room until almost 8am.
I'm worried about him.
And last but certainly not least, is my old chief, "Honest" John.
I just found out this week that chief has spots on his lung, liver AND pancreas.
Damn!
Of all the other chiefs or sheriffs that I have worked for over the last 20-something years, John is the one they were all judged by. This man used to beat us to calls and hog all the action for himself. He was a go getter and another one of those men that I considered a father figure in my life. He was courageous, knowledgeable, stubborn, trustworthy and forthright and he absolutely loved being a cop more than anything else.
He got caught up in a wrong deal many years ago which more or less forced him into an early retirement and seems like he's been on a downhill slide ever since then. Of course, the hard livin' of his youth kinda helped out with the cancer. What with all the drinking and smoking and chasing bad guys that he lived his life by, it's no wonder he wound up in the shape he's in.
Anyway...there's my novella. If you've hung with me for this long, I know what kind of person you are and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Please, PLEASE, PLEASE pray for these three men as well as the rest of my family, because when they go, it's not gonna be pretty.
Again...thank you for taking the time to read this.
Here's what's going on...
My stepdad.
Well...he's not really my step-father. Let me explain. He is the father-in-law to Mrs. GED's best friend of 35 years. We first met Dick Morris when his oldest son Jeff and Mrs GED's best friend Stacey, married back in 1989. When I first met him, I was amazed at how uncanny his resemblance (and everything else) reminded me of my own father. They walked alike, talked alike, looked alike, hell...they even sat on the couch the same way.
Anyways...he was a cop like myself, so INSTANTLY we hit it off. As the years passed, we shared lots of war stories, births of children and grandchildren, witnessed anniversaries, good times and bad times. He was there for me when I made some wrong decisions and I was there for him when he lost a son. We just became family over the years.
Less than 4 months ago, he was diagnosed with advanced lung cancer. Inoperable.
This man, that I had grown to love as much as my own father, whom I had affectionately nicknamed "pops" has significantly went downhill ever since. At first I thought he had given up. Nah. The cancer is so strong, it has just chewed him up and spat him out. I saw him two weeks ago and he had lost all of his hair and went from about 170 pounds to 140. He could still get around (slowly) with the aid of a walker but just little steps.
I saw him yesterday and he looked like a prisoner of Auschwitz. He probably weighed in at a buck fifteen, couldn't get out of bed and couldn't even squeeze my hand. We talked for a minute or so and even that was a struggle for him. He faded off to sleep in the middle of a sentence and I left him and visited for a while with his son Jeff. When I left his home a few hours later - with tears in my eyes - I realized that more than likely, I had just saw him for the last time and considered this visit as my good-bye to him.
He will be missed.
The next on my list of those that will probably go faster than expected is my father-in-law Charlie.
Good ol' Charlie Walker has been in my life for the past 30 years. He has helped me with more tasks than I could even fathom. For an old cowboy who left school in the 5th grade and worked on a ranch for over 60 years, he's is plenty weathered but he still drives (God help us!) he still gets around pretty good and he's probably in better health than most men half his age (he's 86).
Until recently.
For the last month or so, I've noticed that Charlie has lost that spring in his step. He's always used a cane (for the last 4 or 5 years anyway) but lately he's resorted to a wheeled walker as his personal assistant. A week ago, we found out that he has a cancerous spot on his ear that was removed yesterday. We'll find out in a week or so if it's something more we need to do or if that was it.
But sadly, it might have already inflicted some damage because pe-paw (my grandson's name for him) just seems to get a little slower every day. Charlie has been living with us for the past year or so and usually his daily routine was to have breakfast around 7 am and by 8 o'clock he was out the door. Most nights, he wouldn't come back until damn near dark! But for the last month or so, he's been going to the senior citizen's center to have lunch around 11am and then he returns by 2 or 3 in the afternoon. By 7pm he is in his room with the TV on and that's where he stays until the next morning. Even then he doesn't emerge from his room until almost 8am.
I'm worried about him.
And last but certainly not least, is my old chief, "Honest" John.
I just found out this week that chief has spots on his lung, liver AND pancreas.
Damn!
Of all the other chiefs or sheriffs that I have worked for over the last 20-something years, John is the one they were all judged by. This man used to beat us to calls and hog all the action for himself. He was a go getter and another one of those men that I considered a father figure in my life. He was courageous, knowledgeable, stubborn, trustworthy and forthright and he absolutely loved being a cop more than anything else.
He got caught up in a wrong deal many years ago which more or less forced him into an early retirement and seems like he's been on a downhill slide ever since then. Of course, the hard livin' of his youth kinda helped out with the cancer. What with all the drinking and smoking and chasing bad guys that he lived his life by, it's no wonder he wound up in the shape he's in.
Anyway...there's my novella. If you've hung with me for this long, I know what kind of person you are and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Please, PLEASE, PLEASE pray for these three men as well as the rest of my family, because when they go, it's not gonna be pretty.
Again...thank you for taking the time to read this.
