AUTHOR: Sean Savage | POSTED: August 16, 2012 | COMMENTS: 3 Comments
CATEGORIES: Daddy on The Fly,
“Children may not listen to what you say, but they will read what you write and watch what you do.”
I have a very difficult time expressing my feelings in conversation and in many respects I guess this is the definition of a man. That’s why I make a point to tell you I love you each day and those awkwardly unpleasant (for you) attempts to hug you. Often I find it easier to express my feelings through writing. Perhaps it’s because I can’t see the eye rolling or won’t know the TV volume’s been turned up when I write. Or maybe it’s because sometimes it’s easier for teenagers to read thoughts from their parents. Listening, for kids, can be such a dreaded chore.
So I’m writing you a letter.
In fact, I’m going to write a series of letters inspired by a medical diagnosis that has altered my perspective. I know, I know—news flash—I’m not going to live forever. This may come as a surprise to you but nobody was more shocked to learn of my mortality than myself. I used to think I’d live forever. It’s funny how a little medical diagnosis can force one to grapple with his time.
As you know after some tests on my heart, at the Cleveland Clinic, it turns out there is a glitch with my aorta. The doctors are calling it an aortic aneurysm, a condition that has to be monitored quite closely. It’s a complicated diagnosis because the condition has the potential to cause sudden death, but the remedy is risky so the recommendation right now is to wait and monitor it over time. If the aneurysm grows to a predetermined size, I’ll undergo an aortic replacement, which I here isn’t a run in the park. So right now, I’m relying on the expertise of the finest cardiologists in the world and, of course, as with everything, my fate is ultimately in the hands of God.
Hopefully my number doesn’t come up and these letters will help our relationship by providing you some insights on topics you prefer not to discuss in person. In the event my number does come up—and after you make sure I look good in the casket and monitor mom to make sure she is appropriately saddened by my departure—reference these letters for advice and to learn more about my dreams for you—they are countless.