WOLVERINE, MY DAD.
My father was everything that I wasn't. He had superhuman strengths, he was able to handle unimaginable pain, and his body was able to recover from severe injuries as if they were scratches.
As a child I admired that man and hated the world for not being like him.
I grew up in the shadow of a legend. My dad's hobbies included a dog trainer that trained the trainers of the IDF's dog unit, a mountain climber, an inventor, airplane mechanic, dancer, comedian with insane imitation abilities, a man who was unlike any other dad I've ever met.
As a child there was nothing I wanted more than to be like my dad. I was a skinny boy who barely had any physical power, I experienced constant pain which felt unbearable, and my body was constantly sick.
The more I grew, the more I admired my dad, and the more I hated myself.
My dad had endless will power. He taught himself everything and became good at it. He was a highschool dropout that ended up building factories around the world and became a world expert in the field he worked in.
That man is now fading away and I cannot stop it, nor him.
The same way wolverine (Logan) was slowly dying from adamantium poisoning, my dad is dying from more than 35 years of working in the plastic industry that gave him Parkinson's disease and diminished his powers due to the long exposure to chemicals and nano plastic particles.
My dad is now facing an two options: to be restricted to bed for the rest of his life, or to go via a high risk surgery that he might not come out of.
On Friday I told him that based on his condition he has less than half a year to live.
And then he fell.
The superhuman I've loved all my life is now lying in a hospital bed, in pain, and it is now my turn to be there for him like he was for me and for so many other people for so many years.
My dad has decided he will go via the operation, which will take place next week.
A few weeks ago, when my best friend heard about my dad's condition she said to me two things: you must go and see him, and you must be thankful for all those years you had been given the gift to have a healthy father for so much of your life. She wasn't that lucky. So many aren't.
I've dedicated the last few years to heal myself so my little son could have a father he deserves to have, someone whom he could look up to the same way I looked up to my dad. Last night my dad said to me "I feel you became more than me". That was both beautiful and painful to hear.
The child within me is scared of losing his dad, but the man that I've grown to be knows this life experience is just an illusion, that who we really are never dies, and that regardless of what happens next week, my father's spirit will always be with me.
I love you dad.
