It's been a while since I last updated this thing. Hell, kind of sad that this is the first post of 2012. But, as times has gone on, I feel it's only appropriate to share my thoughts on how life has been since my last post. It was already a crazy winter. Minimal snow, mild temps and lots of riding. Over the winter I already had been re-evaluating how I look at life, and how I view responsibility, work, family and so on. But everything I thought I knew completely changed on the morning of February 15th.
I was up in Steamboat Springs for some work meetings, but this morning Len and I were up extra early to get some powder skiing in up on the mountain. I got a phone call from my Dad's girlfriend telling me I needed to rush over to the house immediately. My dad was having difficulties, and she was calling an ambulance. As I was driven to the hospital from Steamboat, about 2.5 hours away, I tried to remain positive. As I later found out, he had an horrible brain tumor called a glioblastoma. These types of brain tumors don't really respond any kind of treatment. Due to the size and progression of the tumor, things were looking bad, even from the very beginning. Less than two weeks after being taken to the hospital, my Dad passed away.
He was a vibrant, fun loving, energetic man who was the greatest father I could have possibly asked for. Whenever I needed him, he was there. No questions. He was also my best friend. I could call him up and shoot the shit for hours. I could ask him for advice on whatever it was that I needed. The two of us could talk and talk.
My dad wasn't one to sugarcoat things. He meant what he said, and said what he meant. And with our relationship, there wasn't anything we couldn't talk about. Years and years ago he made me promise him I would let him become a vegetable, or be in a state that would compromise his quality of life. He was very adamant that he didn't want to just linger on.
After a very bleak prognosis, and some very difficult days, the decision was made to withdraw support. With my Dad being the person he was, there was no way I could let him continue living in any form of disability or pain. To this day, I still know it was the right decision.