Pondering the finality of death

When thinking about death, the finality of the whole ordeal is an extremely depressing thought.

One second, your loved one is with you. The next, they die and are never accessible again. You'll never be able to call them at the end of the day and tell them how your day went. You'll never be able to hear their voice again. You'll never get the chance to hold their hand or give them one last hug.

Seeing as my dad has small cell lung cancer, an aggressive and quick-spreading form of the disease, I've begun to think about this finality more and more each day. I won't even try to be the tough guy because in all honesty, these thoughts absolutely break my heart.

While I know I have to stay strong in front of my dad and keep all the positive thoughts and vibes going his way, it's not so easy for me to stay emotionally balanced away from him. Every time I'm around him, I think of all the "last times" that might be occurring. When the Angels lost in the playoffs, was that the last Angels game I'd be able to watch with him? Was this our last Thanksgiving together? Was this my last birthday with him? What should I get him for Christmas if I don't even know how long he'll be able to enjoy it?

If you know my dad at all, you know he's a pretty funny guy. For example, when we recently had our family reunion in Estes Park, he was an absolute riot when we played Apples to Apples. He hilariously tried to convince the judge to pick his card each and every turn. Knowing that the end could be near, those are moments that I will never forget.

In the same sense though, those moments make me extremely sad. It makes me think that soon, when my dad passes, I'll NEVER have the chance to see that humorous side of him because I'll NEVER get to see him again. Once he's gone, he's gone. All I will have left are memories. Eventually, they will be good enough, but for now, I just can't fathom the thought.

Worst of all, I hate thinking about the future without my dad being in it. There are a list of things I know I'll experience that my dad will never have the chance to witness:

• My first house
• My wedding
• My sister's wedding
• His grandchildren

More than those big experiences, it's the little things he'll miss that bothers me the most. I'll never have the chance to watch an Angels game or talk with him about the Angels ever again. I'll never get to play another game of Five Crowns with him, whether he's at home or in the hospital. He'll never pull two all nighters in a row to go watch me play in every single softball game at the 36-hour softball tournament.

Even as I write this, I can't stop the tears from coming. If I feel this way now and my dad is still alive, I'm afraid of how I'll handle his death once the time actually comes.