Treasure Hunt

Dad and Oceana

In the back of Dad's address book, in tiny, scribbled writing that was barely legible, I found this poem by Mark Nepo (also a cancer survivor).

ENDGAME

Death pushed me to the edge.
Nowhere to back off.
And to the shame of my fears,
I danced with abandon in his face.
I never danced as free.

And Death backed off,
the way dark backs off
in a sudden burst of of flame.
Now there’s nothing left
but to keep dancing.

It is the way
I would have chosen
had I been born
three times
as brave.

-Mark Nepo

I imagine that when I am able to return to Dad's house, I will find things like this, artifacts of his life and his thoughts tucked away in unexpected places. Poems, letters, photos, drawings we kids gave him 20 years ago. Dad would have liked this - surprises, unanticipated treasures. I am reminded of when we kids were little and one of us lost a tooth. The next morning, under our pillow, we'd find a little note with a clue on it. Dad sent us on treasure hunts that lasted all morning. Each clue would lead to another clue, until at the end was some surprise. I don't remember any of the surprises, but I do remember the search for clues. Maybe that was Dad's way of teaching us to enjoy the process as much as the prize.