Posted on May 19, 2010 - by Justin Hartman
In Loving Memory – Rodney John Hartman 25/02/1949 – 18/05/2010
At exactly 00:00 today my father passed away after a long battle with Cancer. Back in 1995 my father was diagnosed with Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia (CLL) and at the time I was only 15 years old. I remember thinking that my dad was going to die but the beauty, I was told, was that we’d have between 15-20 years before that would happen due to the stage they caught the disease at.
Through out the last 15 years my dad has lived a pretty normal life. He never complained once about his illness, he never lost his hair from chemotherapy and he basically never missed a day of work either. For the last 15 years it was as if CLL never existed.
This all changed at the turn of the new year.
Back in August 2009 my dad started to develop a swollen head which made him look like the elephant man and this happend a number of times since then. He became chronically fatigued, his immune system was weak and he started to lose a lot of weight in the process.
At the end of January this year they finally diagnosed my dad with a secondary cancer in the form of tumours that had become widespread and consumed most of his body. At the time they felt treatment was still possible because the tumours hadn’t appeared to spread into any vital organs.
From January until today the cancer spread and grew at such a rapid pace that it was simply eating my dad’s body up. Three weeks ago they discovered three massive tumours on his brain and the prognosis wasn’t looking good for him. A series of radiation treatment ensued and this ended just before mother’s day where my family and I flew up to Johannesburg to have lunch with him.
When we left I knew that this moment was probably the last time I’d ever see him alive again and it made me sick. Sick, quite simply because there was so much I still wanted to tell my dad before he died and I knew that I probably wasn’t going to get a chance to do so. I felt unresolved.
On Sunday morning my mother phoned me to say that my dad’s really slipping away very quickly and that I mustn’t be shocked if she calls me to say he’s gone. I knew the time had come so on the early hours of Monday morning I wrote my father a letter. This was something I had thought about doing for a number of months but now the timing seemed right. I emailed the letter to her and asked her to please read it to him – it was my way of saying goodbye.
Late Monday afternoon my mom called me again, in tears, telling me that he has asked her and my 10 year-old sister for permission to die. He told them that physically and mentally he simply hasn’t got the strength to continue and they gave him their blessing.
I asked my mom if she received my letter and alas she hadn’t. I asked only one thing and that was to please read him the letter before he goes. Later that night I sat going through emails from my father and thinking of him as already dead and I had to stop myself because he wasn’t – yet. So, on Monday night I booked a 1-way ticket to Johannesburg so that I could hopefully spend the last moments of his life with him.
I arrived yesterday at 12:00 in Johannesburg and went pretty much direct to the hospital. I was very relieved to hear that my dad had read my letter to him and I was already feeling more peaceful knowing that he at least knew how I felt.
When I saw him though I simply wasn’t prepared. He could barely talk, couldn’t hear anymore and was passing in and out of consciousness the whole time. He knew I was there and was very happy and surprised to see me but I knew the man was on deaths door.
My visit with him however was extremely special for me. I held his hand, which is something I haven’t done since I was a kid, I told him I loved him and he even asked me for a kiss when I left. I connected with my dad on a very different level and I felt like I had now finally said goodbye and I was ready for him to die.
We were told by Ali Bacher and the hospital that my dad wouldn’t make it through the night and at 00:07 we got the phone call that he had died. My first reaction was that I needed to go and see him and I convinced my reluctant mom to come with me.
Seeing my dad’s lifeless body was something that I wasn’t really prepared for. He had aged by about 20 years due to the lack of oxygen and blood supply, his skin colour had turned yellow/white, his body was warm but getting cold quickly and his facial features had already sunken in. He was not the dad that I had seen some 10 hours earlier.
The hardest part about seeing him was that he wasn’t moving. In theory we all understand that a dead person doesn’t move, breath, talk, etc. but I was fully expecting him to open his eyes and say something to us. This never happened and it was a harsh reminder of what had just happened.
I spoke freely to my dad like I’ve never done before, I touched him and held his hand and rubbed his leg and generally just looked at him in awe as a man who I regard as my hero.
I nearly didn’t book my plane ticket to Johannesburg on Monday night because I realised I was petrified of having to deal with his death but I am so grateful that I put my fears aside, got on a plane, and shared these immensely important final moments of his life.
To be honest his death has not sunken in yet but I can tell you I feel at peace with it. I did everything I needed to do with him and I’m so greatful that I don’t have any regrets around his death.
Today I remember my father as loving, dedicated and humble person who endured many hardships in his life to make our lives a little easier. The world has lost a great human being and I look forward to honouring him at his funeral.
48 Comments
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May 19, 2010
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This is so beautifully written. I lost my dad to cancer when I was 16 and I think we all go through the same emotions when they do pass from that disease. Especially the way you described seeing him dead. I wish you only the best and all the strength you can have, I’m sure he was very proud of you. A son and his father are only ever a heartbeat apart, it does not matter if his physical being has departed. Stay strong.
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May 19, 2010
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Glad you made it in time, and got to say your goodbyes in person.
So sorry for your loss
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May 19, 2010
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Justin, that’s just an amazing post. I’m at a loss for words. Thank you for sharing. May your memories of your father always remain as vivid as they are today.
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May 19, 2010
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An incredibly moving post. Thank you for sharing such a personal story. This is just another reminder of how fragile life is and how we should appreciate the people that we love. Tomorrow, everything can change.
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May 19, 2010
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Justin
This post. This post reminded me of so much. I am so thankful to you for this.
When my dad died, now nearly five years ago, the last time I saw him was the Friday night, before he passed. I sat with him and he held my hand and we talked. He said all he had from his life was his love. And that was all he needed.
As I went to leave he asked me to kiss him one last time. I never saw him again.
Now, today, as I transfer my terminally ill mom to my home so that I can care for her for a bit, I know I face that same farewell soon. And I know that, with the peace of knowing she will go to be with my dad, I will be able to say goodbye.
Big love and strength to your family. I am thinking of you and sending you huge huge love. Your father was an amazing man, and I know you carry his legacy with pride.
xxx
Cath
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May 19, 2010
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That is so beautifull!
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May 19, 2010
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This moved me to tears Justin. What an incredible gift to be able to say goodbye and see, really see each other in those final moments.
Wishing you and your family lots of love.
Kate
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May 19, 2010
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Hey J,
My heartfelt condolences mate, but also my congratulations on being a man that anyone could be proud of.
Cheers
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May 19, 2010
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Awesome tribute
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May 19, 2010
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Thanks for sharing man.
Connected with you and relived my dad’s passing (in a good way)
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May 19, 2010
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Dude. Thats powerful.
With sympathy. C
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May 19, 2010
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Justin, this post is the most sincere personal recollection and reflection I have ever read and it will serve as an important reminder for many of us who will have to go through these experiences some day too.
Thank you for sharing and may the memories of your father live on and give you and your family strength.
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May 19, 2010
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Justin, you gave your Dad something which is so scarce in this world, and that is a son of which he could be proud of.
It takes a really amazing person who’s able to carry so much, at such a young age, and then still be able to write these beautiful posts for the world to see. You are opening your heart to us in a time when us men usually don’t, and I cannot explain to you how amazing that is. Your post triggered the emotions that I have been suppressing for five years, and I will always be grateful to you for that.
Thanks for being my friend, being so open with your emotions, and inspiring the rest of us to be good sons. The gift you gave to your Dad is what all our Dads wish for from us.
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May 19, 2010
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Very touching post, Justin, and I’m very sorry for your loss
More and more these days I find myself thinking about mortality: my own and my parents (both of whom I am lucky enough to still have around).
Your post is a sincere reminder of what and who are important in our lives and that we really DO need to cherish the little time we have on earth with those we love!
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May 19, 2010
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[...] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Fred Hatman, Alan Matthews. Alan Matthews said: RT @fredhatman: South Africa has lost a great sportswriter. I looked up to him. RIP Rodney Hartman. A moving tribute from son Justin… http://bit.ly/bUF6UZ [...]
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May 19, 2010
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Hi Justin. I am so sorry for the loss of your father. How wonderful to not have any regrets. My thoughts are with you.
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May 19, 2010
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Gee whiz Justin what a touching post.
You’ve managed to convey your emotions astonishingly well and although none of us truly know what you and your family have gone through over the past year, your words have moved us and are a fitting homage to a great man.
Sincerest condolences from Lauren and I.
CD
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May 19, 2010
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Touching piece Justin, glad you made the trip.
Condolences to you and your family.
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May 19, 2010
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Dear Justin,
My heartfelt condolences to you and your family. You have been richly blessed to have had a father like yours.
A Stranger
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May 19, 2010
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Words fail me.
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May 19, 2010
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Justin, I am sitting here in the office with a lump in my throat. Writing this must have been one of the hardest things to do, to go through it all again.
Your Dad, from what I have read, was an amazing man, and I am 100% certain that he was extremely proud of you, and all that you have achieved.
My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family, and really hope that your sister is doing ok.
Please shout if there is anything that you need.
B
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May 19, 2010
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Thanks for sharing Justin. It’s frightening how precious little time we have with the ones who matter most. After reading this post I felt compelled to call my Mom and booked her for Sunday lunch – so thank you.
I did not know your Dad, but if his son is anything to go buy, he was a great man. Through you he leaves a wonderful legacy.
Our heartfelt condolences go out to you and your family from Mands and myself.
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May 19, 2010
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Great tribute to your dad, Justin. Our thoughts are with you guys.
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May 19, 2010
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My dad is 77. I travel up and down between the Garden Route and George once a month to see the family. My life and businesses are structured to allow this. It’s not an easy thing to do when it comes to practicality – and sometimes I wonder about the choices I make.
This post reaffirmed my belief that family is the most important thing in the world. Family relationships need to be savored, especially if you still have family around. Thanks for reminding me of this.
Biggest love to you and your family in this time.
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May 19, 2010
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Hi Justin
I was so sad to hear the news this morning. When I joined the Sunday Independent in 1996, your Dad was already an established legend, whose byline I knew and whose articles and columns I loved. Getting to know him, I soon realised what a kind, generous and insightful man he was. I was a rookie reporter who just wanted to do well and he made time to chat, advise and encourage, which I so valued.
I worked with him again in later years, during the World Cup when I too was fulfilling a communication manager role and again, I saw that wonderful humility, humour and calm demeanour.
Rodney was so loved and respected and we will all miss him. To you and your family – we send our love and best wishes.
Jacqui and David O’Sullivan
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May 19, 2010
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Justin … a stunning tribute to your father and a great show of your character.
My thoughts are with you and your family.
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May 19, 2010
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Condolences to the Hartman family. A true media legend has left us.
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May 19, 2010
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That word ‘Dad’ is the measure of a father and a son. Beautiful man. Much strength to your sister
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May 19, 2010
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Hey Justin,
Just to say how truly sorry I am to hear about your dad. I first met him at the Sunday Times back in the 90′s.
He was a real gentleman who would walk the extra mile for friends and strangers alike.
And with Rodney, there were many friends and few strangers.
I think I speak for many within the journalistic community saying that our thoughts and prayers are with you in this difficult time.
Best regards,
Jan
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May 19, 2010
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Justin, thank you for this post. I too lost my dad about 4 years ago, also to Cancer, and I went through pretty much the same emotions & feelings as you have been through in the last couple of days. I can almost relate this story to the tee.
Seeing that lifeless body for me was one of the hardest things in my life to do, but once I had said my goodbyes, and held his hand 1 last time, I felt a strange sense of peace.
This post opened up a flood of tears this morning, and reminded me how precious our time on this planet is.
Thank you. Thank you.
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May 19, 2010
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Your relationship with your father reminds me of the one I have with mine. I’m not sure why, but they seem so similar. In saying this, I understand what it meant for you to be able to write the latter to him, and more importantly see him.
This post is beautiful. It’s left deep feelings of sorrow and melancholy. But beautiful and pensive, and left me feeling the same way.
As I’ve said last night, my thoughts are with you and your family during this time. Sending love and strength for you and yours.
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May 19, 2010
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Hi Justin
My thoughts are with you and the entire Hartman family during this difficult time.
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May 19, 2010
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I was reduced to tears as I read through this.
My thoughts are also with you, I hope you stay strong and live your life to the fullest in his honour.
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May 19, 2010
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Hi Justin
As someone who has also lost his father to cancer, my thoughts are with and the family.
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May 19, 2010
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Justin, I am so sorry to read of your loss. My thoughts are with you and your family.
What a beautifully written tribute to your dad.
xx
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May 19, 2010
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I knew your Dad at the Sunday Times Justin and teased him when he bought that Renault Scenic. He was a generous spirited man and I’m so pleased you managed to spend some time with him at the end. The tributes on this page and elsewhere should make you a very proud son.
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May 20, 2010
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Hi Everyone
To say that I’m overwhelmed by your kind words and support to this blog post is an understatement. I never realised that it would touch so many of you and I am eternally grateful for all of your kind words.
In addition, my family and I are blown away by the tributes and kind words that you have all said about my Dad and it is testament to the character of this great man.
Please forgive me for not thanking each one of you individually but there’s just too many of you to thank and time is not on my side at the moment.
With thanks
Justin
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May 20, 2010
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My sincere condolences to you and the family on our sad loss. The world will be a poorer place without your Dad. From what you wrote I can see that you are cast from the same mould as your Dad. He would be very proud of your words. I had the privilege of working with Rodney over some years when being involved in sport through my Public Relations company. I never heard anyone say a bad word about your Father.I think the word “Gentleman” was created for him.
Thoughts with you all.
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May 20, 2010
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Great writing. Condolences to you and your family Justin! May your dad rest happily.
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May 20, 2010
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A very moving post Justin, you have my sympathy on the death of your father, thank you for sharing this very difficult time with us. I lost my Mom to cancer many many years ago, i was 27 yrs old, and she was 65 yrs old, its a journey i would not wish on anyone. My thoughts are with you.
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May 21, 2010
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Dear Justin
Thank you for the gift of sharing with us. It reminds us of how short and precious life is and how quickly it’s over. Even though I have walked the road with cancer myself, every now and again I also need to be reminded of this.
My dad went in for an operation on Wednesday to remove the cancer in his bladder and I feel blessed and grateful that I will have a little longer with him.
Lots of Love and Strength to you and your family.
x
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May 21, 2010
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Justin – Thanks for a very brave and honest piece of writing that brings truth and humanity to a difficult set of circumstances. Thinking of you at this time.
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May 24, 2010
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I have always found it awkward dealing with people who have gone through the pain of losing someone important in their lives, but the open sincerity of this blog post makes it easier for me to say the following:
You are a great man and I am very sure that your father was very proud of you. I am very sorry for your loss and my love and support go to you and your family. It takes a REAL man to be able to write about his emotions so honestly and in such a beautiful manner.
I have not lost anyone so close to me yet, but when that day comes, I will find real comfort in these words.
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July 7, 2010
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Incredible piece. My moms dying at the moment so its all the more special to me. Hope you are doing ok a few months later.
Take care.
Ron
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August 21, 2010
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Heartfelt greetings. I’m just reading about this and it’s still the most personal and moving experience I have read in a while.
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September 21, 2010
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[...] sabbatical from the events of 2010. Over the last few months it has become clear to me that the loss of my father has had a much bigger impact on my life than I realised. I’ve also had a number of personal [...]
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September 24, 2010
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I followed this link from your LinkedIn page and was very moved by this. Wonderful that you were able to connect at that level before he went.
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October 8, 2010
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Sincere sympathies Justin
“The Clock of life is wound but once,
and no man hath the power to say just when the hands will stop, at late or early hour. Now is the time, thine own, to live & love & toil with a will,
put no faith in tomorrow,
for the hands may then be still”
may you find peace. xxx