Feldman's Finale

The second book I published through my web site is about my Dad and what happened after he died from Cancer. Here is the newspaper article that was written about him as he was dying...

The fanciful flair of Feldman's finale

by E.J. Montini
Published in the AZ Republic February 22, 2007

Now that he's dying, Joseph Feldman is a difficult guy to reach. He's too busy living.

I had to leave a message for Feldman on his answering machine. He called me back an hour or so later, while he was having his nails done.

Feldman has just turned 53 and this was his first manicure. It was to be followed by his first pedicure, so we could chat only until the emphasis at the nail salon shifted from his fingers to his toes. Dying or not, guys don't talk to guys while one of them is having his heels worked over with a pumice stone.

Feldman had sent me an e-mail earlier in the day saying that he enjoyed my work for the paper and adding with an oh-by-the-way casualness, "I'm dying of cancer." I told him that it was the cheapest trick ever used to get to the top of my callback list.

"Worked though, didn't it?" he said, laughing, which is something that Feldman does a lot.

"What good is life without humor?" he said. "If you can't maintain the same attitude and values that you had when you were healthy, then was any of your previous life real?"

Feldman worked for 20 years at Planned Parenthood. I'd spoken to him once or twice during that time. He said this week that his illness was tough to diagnose. When he got the final word, he decided to forgo the nasty treatments that weren't guaranteed to extend his life. Instead, he chose to quit work and live a little.

"That was a no-brainer," he said. "I knew how to work. I felt like what I may not know enough about was how to love people and how to let them love me back. If there was ever a time for me to learn that, it's now."

Feldman is writing about his last days (among other things) in an online journal that is available at www.josephfeldman.info. He's also been visiting with plenty of friends. I asked him if his situation had provided any special insight or lessons about what is important in life.

"I think that I already knew what was important," he said. "I never thought that I was going to live even this long. My mom died in a car accident when I was 15. I got a wake-up call when that happened. I learned that every minute matters. I never forgot that lesson. I never took a job that I didn't want to have. I never dated a girl that I didn't want to be with. If there is a lesson in what's happening to me, maybe it's not a lesson that's meant for me, but for others."

Like us, for instance.

In addition to enjoying himself, Feldman is putting the paperwork of his life in order.

"There is a lot of business to take care of," he said. "I've seen people leave things undone and I'm determined not to have that happen. I tell my wife every day that dying is hard work."

Still, he's heading to Las Vegas soon. After that, he and his family are going to San Diego, where they'll stay in a cottage facing the ocean.

"We're going to have as much fun as we can," Feldman said. "How about you? Is there anything I can do for you?"

I said that I'd like to check in periodically and perhaps put more of our conversations in the paper. He agreed.

When I'd asked him earlier about what's important in life, it reminded me of something that I'd been taught as a boy in Catholic school.

When I was about 10, the mother of a classmate died. Our teacher, a nun, asked if we wanted to discuss the tragedy, and a girl in class asked why God allowed such things to happen.

"He does so," the nun said, "in order to remind the rest of us of how good we have it."

Which led me to ask, "OK, but then why do other really bad things keep happening?"

"Because," I was told, "we keep forgetting."