Remembering Rod

Earlier this morning, our good family friend, Rod, passed away. My dad (on the left) and Rod (on the right) met during the Vietnam war, when they both served in the Army and were stationed in Japan. I heard lots of stories about that time in their lives, because Rod moved in with my dad and mom when I was a little girl. He had fallen on hard times, and they took him in. I have such great memories of him. He was the kind of guy who treated everyone equally, was honest, and treated me like a person and not just some kid. And he was so smart. He read so many books, and taught me so many things. I'll never forget him explaining how lightening and thunder happen, or even teaching me about his struggle with diabetes.

He was part of our lives on and off. After my parents divorced, we didn't see him for awhile. I later came to understand that he was upset by their split and didn't want to choose sides, knowing that my dad was making a huge mistake, and yet being unable to change the outcome. Rod loved my mom a lot, too, and it was hard for him to see the happy family he'd known and lived with come to an end. It wasn't until some years later that my dad found him again, living in some crappy apartment in Seattle, and then recently in a crummy motel before needing to go to a nursing home for 24-hour care. He never had a lot, but didn't seem to care. Never got married (wasn't the marrying kind, he said) and never had kids.

A couple of months ago after we'd reconnected, he mentioned that he'd like to see my mom. So, she and I went to visit him at the home and they finally got the chance to talk though the hurt that happened all those years ago. Turns out that my mom was frustrated with Rod at the time for not trying to do more to convince my dad to stay, and that Rod just knew it wouldn't make a difference at that point and was sad to see it end but felt guilt over not doing more. She was able to ease his guilt and sadness by explaining that she's gone on to have a good life with my step dad and that things happened the way they should have. She understands now that nothing Rod could have said or done would have changed my dad's choices at that time. And he got to know that she was no longer upset with him about that. So, there was some closure there.

It wasn't diabetes that claimed Rod's life. It was surely a complication, but not the whole story. He was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and outlived his oncologist's expectations by over a year. L. and dad and I spent Christmas Eve with him, and were visiting him at his nursing home a lot toward the end. A couple of weeks ago he went to the VA hospital with pneumonia, and unfortunately due to my having a cold, I could not visit. Again, I didn't make it in time. I planned to see him this weekend with my dad so that I could say goodbye because it seemed that he had really taken a turn downhill.

I suppose that in some ways it might be better to remember him as I do. Christmas Eve. Outback Steakhouse. Love and companionship and good memories of other times and places. The promise of getting together again.

But, it doesn't feel better. I didn't make it again. Again.