Now before we move on I need to say something. The title up there? Pronounced Dee-doh, it's Ukrainian for grandfather. Also I know I don't post here often but I needed somewhere more fitting than Facebook or Twitter to post this.
This is about my Dido, Michael Chomyk. He was born in Ukraine and moved over here after the war, he met and married my Babcha (Grandmother if you can't guess), and thus my family occured.
Recently Dido was diagnosed with Bowel and Stomach cancer. He hadn't been well for a while, he was having trouble with solid food, and looked tired all the time. Up until now (and he is in his 80s) he has been a largely active and strong man, always wanting to do things his way and under his own steam. In the space of the three weeks since his diagnosis he has gone from walking with a stick, to unable to get out of bed, and now to being unable to recognise his family or really know where he is. In my mind it's no longer him, the him that was lived until my last conversation with him about two weeks ago....since then all we've seen is an echo of who he was. Brief flashes of words or recognition before settling back into his bed to sleep.
He was a kind man, he never had too little time for people, and for myself, Daniel, and Heidi (his grandchildren) he was always there. In a way I think he wanted to be Dido to everyone, he was there when Babcha fostered troubled kids, and he always seemed to have a lot of time for children in general. I think that goes to show what a special person he was....just how big his heart was. He taught me how to play pool, he helped me learn to swim, how to play basketball, how to play chess, he let me sit and watch him as he mended broken clocks and watches which fascinated me. He was always happy when you visited, even if you only spent five minutes with him, and he rarely asked for anything....all he needed was some beer or brandy, the evening newspaper, and a good western, some wrestling, or some football on the telly.
Why am I telling you this? Because I love Dido, and I want everyone to know just how special a person he was. I want you to appreciate what I may not always have done. I am happy for the 28 years I have known Dido even if right now it's causing pain, that's just part of life. Today I'm going to visit him, I don't know if it will be the last time...I almost hope it is...as much as I love him I don't want to see him cling on and suffer more...but I also know he's not the kind of person to give up. I don't know if there's anything more to say, so I'll just end it there.
This is about my Dido, Michael Chomyk. He was born in Ukraine and moved over here after the war, he met and married my Babcha (Grandmother if you can't guess), and thus my family occured.
Recently Dido was diagnosed with Bowel and Stomach cancer. He hadn't been well for a while, he was having trouble with solid food, and looked tired all the time. Up until now (and he is in his 80s) he has been a largely active and strong man, always wanting to do things his way and under his own steam. In the space of the three weeks since his diagnosis he has gone from walking with a stick, to unable to get out of bed, and now to being unable to recognise his family or really know where he is. In my mind it's no longer him, the him that was lived until my last conversation with him about two weeks ago....since then all we've seen is an echo of who he was. Brief flashes of words or recognition before settling back into his bed to sleep.
He was a kind man, he never had too little time for people, and for myself, Daniel, and Heidi (his grandchildren) he was always there. In a way I think he wanted to be Dido to everyone, he was there when Babcha fostered troubled kids, and he always seemed to have a lot of time for children in general. I think that goes to show what a special person he was....just how big his heart was. He taught me how to play pool, he helped me learn to swim, how to play basketball, how to play chess, he let me sit and watch him as he mended broken clocks and watches which fascinated me. He was always happy when you visited, even if you only spent five minutes with him, and he rarely asked for anything....all he needed was some beer or brandy, the evening newspaper, and a good western, some wrestling, or some football on the telly.
Why am I telling you this? Because I love Dido, and I want everyone to know just how special a person he was. I want you to appreciate what I may not always have done. I am happy for the 28 years I have known Dido even if right now it's causing pain, that's just part of life. Today I'm going to visit him, I don't know if it will be the last time...I almost hope it is...as much as I love him I don't want to see him cling on and suffer more...but I also know he's not the kind of person to give up. I don't know if there's anything more to say, so I'll just end it there.