Storyteller

Although it is not a paid profession, I identify as a storyteller.

As an adolescent kid I’d captivate an audience of peers with “story time” during Blue Dolphins swim practice (as an excuse to take a break from swimming laps). I am not sure why our coach agreed to let me yap but I guess I was convincing, entertaining or some combination of the two.

As an adult, I love hearing stories, reporting stories, sharing stories, meeting people and getting a sense of their story.

Here is a story I want to “put down on paper.” One day when I’m gone maybe my kids will look back on pieces like this.

As my dad neared the end of his life, he got his affairs in order in terms of spending time doing things he liked and financially. Cancer sucks and there is no way around that, but I guess some would like to know, in general, when their time will be up. His sickness showed him a horizon as each treatment failed and the disease spread.

My dad was my favorite person. I respected and idolized him.

Before he died, he wrote a generous check to Hospice. He delegated the next donation to me and Jesse. He wanted each of us to write checks to Kanzius Cancer Research with some of our inherited money. We both honored this. I remember writing out a check larger than my take home pay and feeling a mix of emotions.

While dad was alive, we discussed his intentions and I remarked at how impressive I found his donations to be. He brushed off the compliment and said anyone in his position should be able to do it. I think he should have given himself more credit. He was such a noble “actions speak louder than words” type of person. Of course, he was human and imperfect like the rest of us, but it sure is nice to be buoyed by beautiful memories when you miss a loved one.

In designing our lives, it’s good to remember one day we will be gone and to consider what we’ll leave behind.

 

 

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