Julie

Earlier I mentioned family and friends. Julie is a member of my family. Julie is my daughter.

I had not been a good father to Julie - I was young and very immature when she was born. Working a fast track through business ... climbing the corporate ladder. That sort of thing. You know what I mean. Julie and her mother were "just there".

Fast forward to the 1980's. Julie, like her mother, is a little lady. Blonde, blue-eyes, a slight body. She & her high school boy friend Charlie, are married. She has 2 daughters, 2 businesses and 2 university degrees. Julie is one busy gal!

Julie and I are close. We live 4 hours apart. We talk every so often. Every couple of months we "meet in the middle". She and her family come south ... Nancy & I go north. We "meet in the middle".

It's always a full family event. We have a meal together. We talk. We play. We enjoy. Sometimes for only a few hours ... sometimes all day. For holidays it stretches to two days. And then we go home. Each of us. Julie and her family north ... Nancy and me south.

Still, when I knew I had Leukemia and had to tell Julie, it was a tough call. I did phone she and Charlie, her husband. I told what I knew. I thought I had it all figured out. I’d go in, whatever happened would happen. I’d catch up with everyone after the holidays.

Of course . . . I was wrong. I was very wrong.

Julie, knowing better - much better - said to me;

"Dad, I'll quit my job if that's what it takes to take care of you. I'll be there by Tuesday."
	Julie, with husband Charlie, during our Hawaiian holiday.

I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand what Julie was doing. I just didn’t get it. My first response was "don’t come on Tuesday. It’s holiday time. You have a family - and a business to run. And besides ... this is my problem. You can’t do anything."

Boy, was I off base! Waaay off base!

Thankfully, very thankfully, Julie ignored me. She understood It IS What’s Next that is important. What you do ... and what you do NOW that's important. Initially it was tough for her dad - me - to accept my 40 something year old daughter turning the tables on me. I didn’t understand what she was doing. At first.

Even today it’s tough to think about. And very tough to talk about. Why? Well, because I’m suppose to be the leader. The "man of the family". Macho. And all that sort of stuff. You do know what I mean.

Yet, Julie is a physical and occupational therapist. With her medical knowledge she knew more than any of us without this background. She understood what was happening, what to ask, what I needed, and when.

I could not - in fact would not - survive alone. I didn't know that ... Julie did. I had to learn that survival - and then growth - takes a team. You just can't do it alone.

No, Julie is not a doctor. Still, Julie WAS my doctor. I still tear thinking about Julie’s total dedication to her dad.

Julie did "what’s next". Julie spends 6 of the next 7 weeks taking care of her "ole man". It blows me away . . . even today.

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