"Just breathe"- by Terence's son Eric

 by terence's son, eric

 Terence officiated Eric's wedding in 2008- here, Eric is singing to his bride.

It’s 12:30am here in Cambodia, and I’m sitting here looking at my Mom’s “blog”, and I can’t even begin to read any of the posts that are on here.  I get half way through reading one of them and I start to have a panic attack.  I have to get up from my seat, and go into the hallway and put my hands over my head and just breathe.  My heart is so dang heavy right now; it’s hard to get up in the morning, it’s hard to work out, and for those of you that know me that’s where I find peace.

Callie, Eric and Pop- July 2008

I still remember it like it happened yesterday, Nadine sprinting across my yard to my sliding door and telling me that Pop was diagnosed with stage 4 terminal prostate cancer.  It was like a slap in the face.  I had no clue how to process that information.  All that ran through my head was “You mean to tell me that the man who raised me, the man that taught me how to throw a curve ball, and the man that helped get me into college is going to die in 9-18 months?”  Are you kidding me?!   Now here I sit, somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean in transit to Cambodia, and I receive the worst phone call anyone would ever want to hear. 

I don’t know what woke me up at 4am.  I was supposed to be on liberty that day as well. (Liberty is an R&R day for you in the military, day off from work) But I rose at 4am, right on schedule, checked my email and saw an email from my wife, Callie, saying “call me ASAP!”  Typically, that’s never a good email/text to receive.  So reluctantly I drug myself to the telephones to call Callie.  

Pop and Eric in Chicago, 2010

Looking back, 9-18 months sounds like an eternity, especially compared to the prognosis that was just given to Pop!  That may have been the worst news I’d ever heard.  It’s hard enough to have someone unexpectedly die, or even to know someone is on their way out of this life.  But to be told that someone you love only has 2-4 weeks left on this earth, and I’m on the other side of the world, totally powerless and at the mercy of someone or something that cannot sympathize with me in the least bit.  I have to tell you, my heart is as heavy as it’s ever been. 

I find out the Pop has 2-4 weeks to live, and the Navy can’t even get me home within 1 week to see him, and my heart continues to get heavier.  I see all the pictures that people send me, and the ones posted on Facebook of Pop, deteriorating, and my heart gets heavier. 

I’m here sitting in front a computer screen thousands of miles away, heavy hearted. 

Lord I pray peace and patience over my family.  I pray that you would fill their hearts with joy and replace any fear or doubts in their heart.  I pray for the strength to continue to walk in your word Lord, and to stand fast on the promise that YOU made Pop to live to the age of 86!  In Jesus name, Amen.

Fishing with Pop last fall