Help me hug my dad one last time.

Those who know me, know my world was rocked when my beloved Ray was diagnosed with Glioblastoma Multiforme (GBM), the most deadly cancer. An inoperable brain tumor that caused multiple illnesses as his body broke down and his mind slipped away. He passed away 3 years ago. The day before our son’s 7th birthday.

Losing Ray changed my world immensely. I could no longer afford to stay in the home we had for almost 20 years. The cost of paying medical and bills took all of the savings. I had to find a place to relocate to that was more affordable for a single parent. At the time of his passing, I was not working as I was his sole caregiver 24/7. The COVID pandemic caused shutdowns, and lockdowns, and not even his homecare team could come to our house to help any longer. It was a heavy burden.

My mind full of grief, I had to keep trying to forge ahead. I found a place in El Paso that was more affordable. It was a long way from family, they all being in Canada. But at that time, I was told I could not return to Canada, maybe it was COVID restrictions, maybe because people were working remotely and didn’t want to take the extra effort to assist me in understanding the process it would take. I decided I needed to make a move that would be good for me. Sun and warmth were an inviting embrace I was needing. It was a decision that had to be made very quickly as I was running out of money.

I did not have a job since 2010. At that time, I was laid off and Ray and I decided I would take the time to be a “pampered housewife”. Those years were far from pampered as I found myself in the role of assisting others. In 2013 we suddenly found ourselves in the role of parents again as Ray’s grandson was placed with us, in hopes of his parents obliging the courts to get their son back. By the age of 2, he became a ward of the state and was subsequently adopted by Ray and me.

Now Maxwell and I find ourselves forging a new life in a new town, far from the friends and family of yesteryears. I was blessed in obtaining a job at The University of Texas at El Paso (UTEP) and have very slowly been trying to rebuild some sort of savings. However, the house has become quite a maintenance hog, and my reality is a paycheck-to-paycheck living.

This past week, I received more upsetting news from my family. My dad is full of cancer. Lungs, liver, kidneys... The prognosis is not good, a few months, maybe. I want so dearly to go home to hug my dad. To cry with my dad, my mom, my older son, and my granddaughters. I miss them so very much. I saw my parents last when they came to say their goodbyes to Ray, which will be 4 years in August. I last saw my granddaughters over 5 years ago when my grandma passed. My older son had a chance to come to say goodbye to our home in Seattle, but not to his dad because of the COVID lockdown, but it has been 2 years since I have hugged him.

I am swallowing my pride, and asking for your help. I need help to cover travel costs, dog sitting, and most likely child care for Maxwell. Maxwell needs a passport. I don’t believe it will be issued in time to make it to see my dad before he passes. My trip will entail a round-trip ticket from El Paso to Calgary, then car rental fees to make the 6-hour drive to Swift Current and back to Calgary again. I am hoping I will have sick leave hours to cover my missed time at work, but unfortunately, I can not use my vacation hours until October of this year due to a promotion that initiated a 6-month work probation.

My heart would be forever in gratitude to those who could assist me in any way to make it happen. My heart is so very heavy knowing I will be losing my dad. He has been a blessing in my life for so many reasons. He is my dad! He has taught life lessons, loved and nurtured me, and has always been there for me, no matter what. I couldn’t hug him or get comfort when my husband died because of COVID restrictions locking down the border. I had no family in my deep grief. I don’t want my mom to feel that emptiness. She needs support. She is still recovering from a very recent stroke. My worries are high. My anxiety is high. My sorrow is deep.