Will

Monday, October 19, 2009

This was a very important weekend to my dad. It is difficult to explain how important unless you are one the initiated, indoctrinated, inner circle members of the society known as "Barbershoppers." It wasn't like your child's wedding or even as weighty as his college graduation. A graduate degree. Maybe that gives you an idea. None of us siblings have one of those but I imagine if one of us were going through a graduation ceremony to get some class of graduate degree he would want to be there just about as much as he wanted to be in Kalamazoo this past weekend.

Ironic since that (Kalamazoo) is where we were two weeks ago today and it was not a pleasant experience. This was different, however. I was directing a chorus in contest for the first time. Barbershop singing is the activity my dad and I shared as I grew up. He used to say, "Beats hell out of little league" when talking about it. One of many Roy-isms. It has been a connecting thread for us for 30 years even when there were miles between us. I've directed choruses plenty of times over the years but never in contest. On top of that my quartet, still a pretty new ensemble, just got a new baritone. It was a little like acquiring Wayne Gretzky on your minor league hockey team (not sure dad would get the analogy, but he'd look it up). We landed an international gold medalist baritone and while we knew we couldn't win with just six rehearsals under our belt we were going to make a splash. Proud fathers don't miss weekends like this.

Hillsdale isn't on the way to or from the Detroit area from Kalamazoo. OK. Hillsdale isn't on the way to anything except Hillsdale. But my quartet - wives and kids in tow - went nearly 100 miles out of their way yesterday to come to his bedside. A small consolation prize for him but the best we could arrange given the circumstances. When I talked to my mom Saturday night after the contest was over she warned me not to dawdle getting there the next day. The previous 24 hours were not good. I was hoping she wasn't holding back anything like "come now." But I decided she wouldn't do that. We got the troops together as efficiently as possible Sunday morning and I spent the preponderance of the ride preparing myself for the possibility that he might not be able to enjoy even this small gesture.

I couldn't have been prepared for what I encountered, however. Simply put, he was more himself than I have seen him in quite some time. Maybe even since before this summer which was a difficult one. I had asked my mom a few days ago if there was any predictor for what made a good day or good hour (not that the two are that different for someone who isn't awake more than a few hours a day). Certain times of day, certain times after eating? Nothing. Those times have been unpredictable and sometimes even inconvenient. If he's up to talking at 1:00 in the morning you just have to accept that for the gift that it is. But I don't think this was just a gift. This was a show of will and determination. If you know any of my father's life story that is not a stretch. If he set out to will himself to any particular task, no matter how outrageous, I wouldn't advise betting against him.

I allowed my mind to wander for a bit. He could rally. If he really wanted to do it he could rebound. He really could set his mind to it and get back on his feet. Why not? If his strength of will could bring him back this far why not all the way where he was before? That's when it hit me. You know. Like that final scene of "The Sixth Sense." This is where he has been for a long time. The only thing between him and the ground has been his will for... damn. Has it been that long? Three years?

That's when he went right to the brink with a really bad pneumonia. He was in the hospital and even the doctors could see he was giving up the fight. I even got that call everyone dreads - "you better get here soon." But he changed his mind. He fought back. Well, that's what I thought. He didn't decide that day to keep going. He has been deciding every day since then. Someday soon he will make a different decision.