An update from Sheila:

Many of you have been inquiring about my dad and sending your love. So I thought I would give an update.

 

Barring some miracle, my dad is more than likely nearing the end of his life.

 

This has been an overwhelming thing for all of us (namely him) to process in one month’s time. And I imagine it will be something that all of us who love him will continue to process for quite some time.

 

Throughout these long, strange days I keep willing my heart to remain open to all the wrenching grief and simultaneous, unexpected beauty of this time. Because even in our exhaustion and sadness, the love is what is most present.

 

Now more than ever, I am aware of my father’s impact on so many people in this life. He has married handfuls of couples, counseled countless folks through their darkest chapters and been a steadfast friend to so, so many. In recent days I have had multiple individuals tell me that he quite literally saved their lives with his support at various moments in time.

 

But one of the most beautiful reminders this past week is how the ripples of his love and kindness spread to everyone he meets.

 

There was the ultrasound tech who told me that the surgeon had left a note in his chart that she would “gladly be around this amazing man and his delightful family anytime.” The tech said notes like this really never happen.

 

There were the nurses (who have known him 4 days) that were crying telling him goodbye today as he transfers to a hospice facility. My mom said they were “duking it out” to see who got to care for him for the last 3 hours of his hospital stay.

 

The owner of my dad’s favorite coffeeshop who came to visit him & shared that every one of his staff members was in tears hearing the news of my dad’s sudden illness.

 

The long conversation with the most amazing palliative care nurse about how we could provide my dad with the highest quality life for the remainder of his days. Not surprisingly, my dad ended up asking her about how everything was going with her foster child and how she was doing. During this exchange my mom, brother, sister and I made eye contact and smiled at one another through our tears. Because it was SO Steve Dunn to be asking about how someone else was doing in the midst of discussing the end of his life.

 

Several mornings ago, the five of us Dunns were sitting together in the hospital room and my brother asked my dad if he was scared. My dad took a minute and then said, “Yes. I am a little scared….But that’s not the pervasive feeling. The pervasive feeling is one of immense, immense gratitude.”

 

And that answer is everything I think. We are all heartbroken and scared and shocked. But mostly so, so grateful.

 

My dad truly represents everything good in this bruised world. And we will cherish & savor every moment he is in it.