The Way Balls Bounce
My Dad has prostate cancer.
He also has a knack for being excessively matter-of fact, of nonchalantly reporting things that are usually charged with emotion. At least on TV, they are. Or overblown blog posts. “O prostate cancer, prostate cancer / Life is a question / You are an answer / That sucks, sucks, sucks.” Cue empathy and support. Maybe even blog & Twitter badges that say “I H8 BHJ’s DAD’S PROSTATE. DONATE”.
When his Dad died - my Grandpa Mag - and people tried to express their condolences, I remember my Dad receiving handshakes, smiling broadly, and saying “Hey hey. That’s the way the ball bounces.” I was young. I actually visualized a red ball bouncing while trying to fathom the whereabouts of my Grandpa Mag.
So he tells me this yesterday like he’s saying “Look. A ball bouncing.” and that’s the way I heard it too. I’m just listening to all this stuff about catching it early and radiation or removal and a good prognosis until we finally hang up and everything’s silent. Not emotional. Silent. A silence much bigger than quiet. It’s the calm before I begin to question my aptitude for being a son.
“I’ll be fine.” he had said, confidently, and it echoed in my head. Because he will. Be fine. He’ll keep right on bouncing until he stops. That’s the way balls bounce and who cares how? How gets in the way. For a long time, I questioned my Dad’s reaction to his own Dad’s death but today it made its own kind of sense to me. What initially appeared to be an evasion of grief now looked more like a radical acceptance of the way things bounce.
I hope Jackson skips the whole emotional disclosure of memorable stories at my funeral. I imagine him saying nothing at all and just bouncing a red ball off my casket as hard as he can – BOING! The confused funeral goers watch the ball bounce around the room until it finally gives way to a slow roll that, eventually, in its own time, stops.
Get well, Dad.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Reader Comments (31)
Brilliant post about life.
Hope your dad is well soon.
Dear BHJ - most people with prostate cancer live long enough to die of something else. If something so perverse can be said, it's one of the "best" cancers you can get. I know three older men who've had it for 3-6 years, and have barely had a change in their lifestyle. This is meant to be a comfort to you, but I know that the C word rocks anybody's world, and your dad's situation has lots of ins and outs to which I am not privy.
Please accept this fumbling attempt at reassurance.
Get well, Dad.
I'm choosing optimism, and I think your dad will be fine. Because that's the way the ball will decide to bounce.
"What initially appeared to be an evasion of grief now looked more like a radical acceptance of the way things bounce." This is bouncing around in my head today. Best to your dad, and hoping it's all resolved and recovered without too much white-knuckling.
At your funeral, Jackson will probably indulge in emotional disclosure just to be contrary.
My uncle has been "dying" of prostate cancer for 4 or 5 years now. I'm not sure how old he is - he's my Mom's older brother and she's 88. I don't think they even caught it early.
Did I ever hear that "silence" you speak of when I informed my people that I had a "large mass" in my abdomen and that we needed to get it out surgically. Dead woman walking until it was determined to be benign, not deadly. I heard my own voice echoing just what your Dad said, "I'll be just fine. It'll all be ok." The ball bouncing was the next thing...
i really like this way of looking at things. Thanks for sharing this perspective and fine fettle to your dad!
Be well BHJ's Dad....be well....
My mother has had 3 diagnosis in the last 2 years...and she is now very well....and, I know, she will keep being that way for a good long while.
my pops had it 8 years ago & he's still kicking ass & taking names, just minus a prostate.
get well papa jesus
Be healed, daddy jesus. Be healed.
I'm not sure what's harder, seeing your parents hold it together or seeing them break down. The stiff upper lip is so hard to watch, once you're old enough to detect it. I remember being so confused when my dad didn't cry at his mother's funeral. He just didn't talk. Then a few weeks later, as I went barreling down the stairs to get him for dinner I found him sitting in the basement with one far away lamp on, listening to the aria from Madam Butterfly, his mom's favorite opera, crying his eyes out. While that response made more sense to me, it was really scary too.
I wonder if your dad really has that 'that's the way the ball bounces' philosophy or if that's how he chooses to keep his emotions at bay. I hope he'll be okay. And you too.
My dad just had surgery for this in late February. Hope all goes well.
Oh, I know that silence.
Sending good thoughts to you and your dad...
My dad is bouncing his own ball on the other side of the room as dementia slowly erodes his mind... He's impressively matter-of-fact about it, too.
But as others have mentioned, playing the odds mean that your dad will come thru w/flying colors & be bouncing for many years to come. Best wishes for you & your family, BHJ
I'm having trouble remembering it's not testicular cancer because of the ball bouncing talk, that would have been ironic. But I do hope he has a good recovery and all remains well. Best to you all.
My dad's was not caught early and when he visited first time after the operations etc we were given 'a talk'.
He said if any of us were heading to the bathroom at the same time as he, he would be like George from Seinfield fleeing the fire pushing old people with walkering frames out of the way.
I love how the more indignity life heaps on us, the less we care about it :)
I love this perspective on life (and death). I'm not in your shoes so I can't speak from experience, but it's heartwarming to see acceptance of life and the ups and downs it brings. Part of the magic each day is watching it unfold. You never really know how the day will end so you might as well stop worrying about it. I hope all goes well for your dad, and for you.
My mother called me six years ago to tell me my Dad had lymphoma. I don't remember the conversation, because I immediately went blank, slipped into a kind of denial about it. When it finally sank in, I felt so helpless - because what can we do with this information, really? Scream, cry, pray, hope - they all feel so small in the face of it all, but of course I did them anyway.
My Dad tackled his cancer with quiet stoicism and strength - the same way he has tackled everything in life. It was odd to see my powerhouse father weakened. At 34 years old, I was still just a kid inside when it came to him. We didn't have a touchy-feely relationship, just a real, loving, quiet one. We didn't actually talk much about it at all - it was like this heavy stone that pressed on everything, but nobody wanted to acknowledge it.
He beat it - four years cancer free now. I look back on that time and it is a blur - we all just went through the motions of life and tried not to think too much about the C word. We just watched to see which way the ball was going to bounce. I was never one for hope - I'm more of a keep my expectations low and be pleasantly surprised kind of gal. So I didn't hope, I just avoided, and put one foot in front of the other. Because what other choice do we have?
The good news is that I notice my Dad, now, in ways I didn't before. Before he was just, well, there. I still don't have any control over that bouncing ball, but I remember to appreciate people more.
I hope he will be okay. Hang in there.
-Ellie
so you know, i would definitely add an “I H8 BHJ’s DAD’S PROSTATE. DONATE” badge to my site.
just sayin'.
as usual, i am awed by your post. you have an amazing voice.
~sending good vibes to your dad~
What an amazing choice your Dad has made to accept life as it is handed to him. If you fear nothing, you have peace. I hope I can get to the same place he is at one day. Godspeed brother. To you and your Pop.
I wish for more funeral strangeness borne of the departed's wishes.
I wrote this exam question for my first elementary physics course. It was a give-away question to put test takers at ease. And it also tested one very elementary course objective: "The learner will be able to recognize acceleration in new, unfamiliar situations and be able to distinguish it from velocity." A person who doesn't find this question trivial and obvious is probably going to be mystified by a large part of the physics that follows. A person who "sees" often suspects that there's a hidden "catch"; it's simply too obvious. The answer is given in the last phrase of the question!
Mary Frances Handbag...
Lots of ideas may be differ from them. Always do it for only you... got up from now for her dad....
portable air conditioning Unit.
aw, geez.
sending good thoughts to you.
and you, are you your father's son?
this post blew me away.
get well, BHJ's dad.
Fucking Brilliant! My mom is battling bilateral breast cancer right now. FUCK CANCER! Here's to our parents kicking cancer's ass!! xoxoxoxo
I hope he will be fine!!! And he sounds just like my dad. Kind of wonder what generation he is from??? My dad is 80, you dad sounds a little younger but seems to still have that mentality of the older generation that sometimes is hard to explain.
shit. this was amazing. my best to you and your dad.
Thinking of you, your dad and your family... crossing my fingers, believing.
a. By god, this was good.
b. For what it's worth: hoping your dad's ball takes a lucky bounce. It does happen.