Dad was getting antibiotics when I arrived and the IV machine was beeping. I kissed him hello and went to find Mary Beth. She cleared the kink in his IV and Dad asked for a handkerchief.
Dad is resting now so I thought a good time to catch up on the events of yesterday afternoon. Tom called and said he thought the end was near. Ranae came over to cover the store and I headed to Rosewood to find Dad in repose, moving in and out of sleep.
He certainly did not look good. Every once and awhile he would indicate he saw something flying or running by in his room. He said he was warm, which we had not heard in a month at least. Tom thought he could hear without his headphones. I believe he could tell we were speaking and his responses, after dealing with poor hearing for nearly 10 years, were more reactive than cognitive. By that I mean he was using phrases like "yes", "that's nice", and "uh-uh". (I'm typing what I wrote three hours ago and since then I did see Catie come and speak closely into his right ear and I do believe he did pick up some of what she was saying.)
Cate had invited Pastor Terry in and he asked if we thought the end was near. "Yes." Does he know? "Yes." Terry then proceeded to tell us that sometimes people just need permission to go and he asked if he could give Dad permission. "Yes."
Terry then offered a very nice prayer telling Dad his wife, mother, sister, and brothers were waiting for him and that it was okay for Dad to go meet them. Dad thanked Pastor Terry after the prayer. Pastor Terry then reiterated that we were there to make him comfortable and asked Dad if he were in any pain. In the truest of Dad form and channeling a little Grand K, without a beat of hesitation, he replied, "No. Thank God!"
Afterward, we sat around the bed. I've caught a cold, I think from a sneezing machine masquerading as an old woman in the dining room, and the hopelessness of Dad's situation hung in the air amongst the six of us (Tom, Mary, Cate, Bill, Dad, and I).
Bill went out to make a phone call and Dad was resting fitfully. I thought I would give creative visualization a try. After hooking up the headphones I said, "Dad let's take a trip back to when you were 17. Picture yourself on the beach in Hawaii. You body is young again and you have no aches and pains."
"Oh yeah", he sighed as I rubbed his shoulder.
Looking back, I think he would have preferred a crowded beach with pretty girls, instead I went on, "Dad, you've got the whole beach all to yourself. There's not a soul around. The sun is shining on your body and feels good on your skin. The waves are lapping at your feet and the coolness is refreshing."
"Oh, that's nice."
"You're on the beach, you feel great in the sun and it's so nice and you are so relaxed and at peace." I wasn't sure where I wanted to go from here. Thankfully, Tom feigned falling asleep and we all got a bit of a chuckle.
Through this whole experience we have repeatedly said to one another that our goal should be to follow Dad's wishes. To me this not only applies to his dignity, but to his wishes for us as well. Dad has told me on a number of occasions, "Do not be sad, I've lived a good life, and you should be living yours instead of spending it with me." When I told him there would be plenty of time for that later he said, "Okay hon, just be happy".
I can't say I've been completely successful at the not-being-sad part, but I continue to work at it by learning from a man who, through this entire experience, has shared a laugh or at least a smile with me on a daily basis. That's a part of his legacy I will always appreciate.
He's laid here resting, somewhat uncomfortably at times, while I've written most of this. He woke all the up about 15 minutes ago and I put the headphones on.
"How'ya doin'?"
"Not so good."
Earlier while she was removing the IV, I had asked Mary Beth for any advice she could offer. "Sometimes they are just afraid to go because they feel you depend on them. Let him know it's okay. He may not know how to let go, but he will find a way."
"Dad, you know we love you." He reached for my hand and put it to my face. "Dad it's okay to go. You can give up. Your job here is complete. We'll be alright."
"Oh, hon, I gave up a long time ago." With that he asked for a handkerchief and wiped away a shadow of a tear. We said a few more "I love you"s and then he drifted off. A little while later he reached up and took the headphones off.
Bill and Cate arrived and after a bit I came down to the store to post this and catch up on a few things.
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