Dad Daze: The ups and downs of surprises

“Surprise is the greatest gift which life can grant us.” – Boris Pasternak

This is not a sequel to my last column in which my daughter Jillian surprised me by pulling a successful April Fools’ Day joke at my expense. Jillian artfully feigned a tattoo on her right bicep.

“Surprise,” Jillian said. I guess I deserve it since I’ve surprised my children more times than I can recall. However, after a life of being unaware during many trips, perhaps it’s time for my children to shower me with surprises. During many vacations, particularly a journey by automobile, my kids often didn’t know where they were going.

“There are two sides of it when I look back at what we did,” Jillian said. “It was aggravating never knowing what to pack.”

No wonder Jillian’s favorite Radiohead song is “No Surprises.”

I would offer hints, but I would often tell them to prepare for different elements. What prompted the constant surprises was my childhood, which was pretty straightforward. I never traveled out of a 90-mile radius. So, I decided that my children would experience the world.

Since I don’t recall ever being surprised, I decided to keep my kids on their toes. Perhaps most parents try to replicate their childhoods for their kids, but I had grander ideas and a different process, which has been met with mixed reviews by my children.

“At times, it was annoying,” Jillian said. Milo, 16, concurred. “I remember walking up to a gate at the airport, and I thought we were going to Los Angeles, but we were going to Hawaii,” Milo said.

“That was a great surprise, but it’s always kind of stressful going away with you. I literally wondered if we were really going to Hawaii. I wondered if we were connecting to a flight to Tokyo!” Jillian, 23, laughed when she heard Milo’s take. “Milo is right, but all of our vacations were great.”

There was one surprise vacation that was bittersweet. In January 2007, I announced that we were going to Disney World, and nothing would stop us. The statement was delivered with Clark Griswold-esque zeal since our plans to visit the Orlando theme park were always derailed.

And then my father broke his hip. He recovered slowly, and just as he was improving, my mother busted her hip. My mother was my father’s lifeline. As much as we cared for him, I noticed a tangible sadness. My dad was lost without my mother, and he gave up.

While my mom was in the hospital, he passed away one day before our Disney trip. I broke the news to my mother that her husband of 57 years was gone. She immediately mentioned our vacation plans. My wife declared that we are absolutely not going to go to Florida since my father just passed away and my mother was in the hospital. The kids nodded in sad unison.

It made sense until my mother chimed in. “You have to go to Florida,” my mother demanded. “Your father is gone. There aren’t going to be services anyway since it’s Easter week and I’m stuck in the hospital. What are you going to do? Stay here and grieve with me? You’re not a doctor even though I always hoped you would become a doctor.”

Nice dig, Mom, especially when you learned that the life you knew for over a half-century is permanently altered. “You can’t help me,” my mother continued. “I want you to go to Disney World since Eddie will have his birthday there. Life is for the living. Please go! It’s about your kids now, not the people who led their lives.”

It was yet another of the myriad selfless acts that were routine with my mother. I didn’t fully comprehend what she was willing to do until years passed. She opted to be alone in a hospital and insisted that we carry on with our plans since she was more concerned with Jillian, Eddie and Milo than herself.

It touches me more deeply now since I see the big picture. There was nothing she enjoyed more than her grandchildren, and it would have buoyed her spirits if they were around – but my mother was the toughest person I ever met. Nothing stopped her – well, except one thing.

So, the 15th anniversary of the greatest surprise my children ever experienced is upon us. It’s difficult to believe it’s been that many years since my father passed and equally difficult to fathom that Eddie just turned 20. “I’ll never forget it,” Eddie said. “I remember being at Grandpa’s house when he passed away in his chair.

“I remember all of the discussions about what was happening. We were all shocked that we went to Florida, but it worked out. We had the best time we could have under those circumstances. When we returned, Grandma was thrilled to leave the hospital, and she gave me a huge hug.”

My mother bounced back from hip surgery easily. She tossed her cane in five weeks and immersed herself in the kids and then announced that she needed a break, her first since she married my father in 1950.

Permission granted! The plan was for her to spend her latter years in independent fashion since she was in great shape. I experienced the first big surprise of my life just over a year later. I was asked to accompany my mother to her doctor and was informed that she had lung cancer, Stage 4, with perhaps a year to live.

I never grieved as much as I did that afternoon. The person who brought me into the world and supported me in a fashion I could never replicate with my children was about to die. It was a shock to my children that their secondary support system was not long for the Earth. My mother moved in with us, and we cherished the time together.

The surprises continued. While my mother clearly struggled, she perked up when I told her that another baby appeared to be on the way. “Perhaps this one will be a girl,” my mother said as she worked up the energy to smile.

For a moment, I could forget about how she would wince in pain. “Are you all right, Mom?” I asked as I heard her grunt in agony in the next room. “I’m fine,” she lied.

The next surprise occurred three days later. My mother collapsed and was rushed to the hospital. I was en route to a concert review, Bruce Springsteen’s most recent performance at the intimate Count Basie Theater, and met her in the ER. I was told by the doctor that she’ll be fine and back for Christmas, which was three days later. I breathed a sigh of relief.

However, there was a final surprise. My mother gave up. As they were placing her on a ventilator, I begged her not to take that route. My mother vigorously waved at me in a dismissive manner. That was her goodbye. Within four hours, she was gone.

Jillian has often joked that her grandmother found a portal back when she learned of my wife’s pregnancy since Jane, 12, shares many of her traits and bears her middle name, Helena.

“So, there are all types of surprises,” Jane said. “The good and the bad. And we should be thankful for the good surprises even though we usually receive them in the most annoying manner, thanks to you.”

Exactly!