Dad hasn't seemed to move much since I saw him last night. Tom and Bill have spoken with Dr. Memnon who believes time is short with Dad.
We are all here now. Jim came in last night. Good thing. If Dr. Memnon is right, the days will get tougher. If Dad can take it, we can, right? It's simple math. We each have half of him in us. There are five of us. When we stand together, that is two and a half of him. And we know he is strong. Strength in numbers. We can take it. Simple math.
While sitting here Dad has shadowed a tennis swing, occasionally points around, or tries to grab at something. He has not said much. Remembering how he liked the foot rub from yesterday, I moved to the end of the bed to rub his right foot. As I began he let out a moan that startled me and I paused to look at Dad's face. He hugged himself and gave a mild wide-eyed wiggle - obviously the universal sign for "That feels good, don't stop".
I spent about five minutes on each foot and at one point he was waving at me then opening and closing his hand. This time I think he was just signalling that he was in a world all his own. I wondered if he could be comforted by familiar images and played the "Family" video for him on the iPad. He gave out a couple of groans and sighs at the early photos and another when one of his Mom went by. He mumbled, "That's good, John", and put his hand up to touch the screen. I am not sure how much he actually saw or understood as he turned away and disappeared near the end.
Another 10-15 minutes went by and he woke with a start, "Oh no. I don't know where I am." I rubbed his shoulder and he was reassured. He would ask me this once again later, when the headphones were on.
Chuck knocked on the door for a visit. He rolled in, "How's my buddy doin'?"
"Not too good."
"Did you leave this?", holding up the card Catie had had us all sign.
"My sister dropped it by last night."
"Cain't see good enough to read it, but thanks"
"Want me to read it to you?"
"That would be nice."
I read him each comment, describing each of us who had signed it. He said, "That really warms my heart."
I winked (Chuck has taught me the power of the wink) and said, "That surprises me 'cause we are a cold-hearted bunch."
"That's bull!", pausing for a second before saying, "I missed him at breakfast. I wanted to see how he was doing. Did he eat?" Then he barked a "Hello, Buddy" down to Dad.
"I doubt he'll be seeing too many more breakfasts."
A sadness came over his face and he dropped his head, "That's too bad." He went on, "Where ya takin' him?"
"Greenlawn."
"That's a nice place. I'd like to be there - not as part of anything - just to say good-bye to my friend."
"That would be nice."
We talked a little more, then said our good-byes. He yelled at Dad, "Take it easy Buddy". Dad grunted back "okay". He had not had his headphones on all morning.
Sonia brought in breakfast. I asked Dad if he wanted apple juice. "Yes". Note to self: pour out half the container so it doesn't spill on the poor man's shirt.
A bit later he gave me the headphone sign and I put them on. Mary Beth came in for eye drops. She said she woke up at midnight and felt the desire to pray for Dad. "I got down on my knees and started praying and I was crying too." Dad grabbed her hand.
After she left, I asked Dad if he wanted water. As I sat on the side of his bed helping him sip, he looked up and asked, "What time is it?"
"Nine"
"Did I go to breakfast?"
"No."
In a rather stern tone he said, "Why not?" Huh? Why not? Really!? I was back peddling now. Hmmm. What's a good answer? C'mon, John, think! I got nothing.
"Sorry, Dad, I did not have the heart to wake you up. They brought breakfast in for you, jello and oatmeal, but they took it back. Do you want anything?"
"No", sounding disappointed, "That's okay."
Sometime around ten he needed to use the bathroom. I peaked down the hall, but there wasn't an aide in sight. I managed to get him to the porta-potty. He was having a hard time getting up. Finally, I was able to round up Mary Beth and we got him cleaned up and back on the bed. He was near the foot of the bed and Mary Beth called Sonia and the two of them did this pull-slide-rollover routine until they got Dad back to the part of the bed he would be most comfortable. It was far more strenuous than the Physical Therapy I had seen Dad do and he was out of breath and complaining he could not breathe. Mary Beth came in and took his BP which to no one's surprise was high. Then she took his O2 level. It was 37 and she had a very concerned look on her face as she said, "We need to get him some oxygen."
She hustled, got the machine hooked up and on Dad in a few minutes. By this time his breathing had improved but his levels were a roller coaster. She came in about twenty minutes later and took his BP again, peeled the monitor off his wrist, looked at it and smiled. Back in the normal range.
Bill had come in near the tail end of all this. Tom and Mary followed. It was time for me to go catch up on a few things.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Saturday, October 13, 2012
October 13th - Giving Permission
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.
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.
Friday, October 12, 2012
October 12th - A Breakfast Conversation
Dad and Chuck were in the dining room when I arrived. Dad asked for some milk and Tony brought us a glass of soy milk. Dad took a couple of long, slow draughts and took in about half an ounce. He seemed to like it. I told him he had some jello on the table and he carefully reached for it. He was struggling with the plastic wrap and I asked if he needed help, "No, it gives me something to do."
A couple of times he looked like he saw something and I asked about it. He said "I've seen Max run by a couple of times. He sure is busy." He had a couple of bites and a few more sips of the soy milk before asking to go back to the room.
He looked at the door and said how nice it was decorated. He told me about a visit from Bonnie and Tak, although he could not remember much.
He laid down after a great labor to move from the chair to the bed. He lays here moaning with almost every breath. I've got the heating pad on him and try to comfort him from time to time, but it does not seem to help much. His eyes move around the room as he is seeing things. I'm certain that between the lack of calories and input from his own eyes, that his brain still needs to see something and conjures up images from old memories and mashes them together.
I sat there for about twenty minutes and finally sad good-bye. He said, "Okay hon, I'm going to take a nap and see what happens. I'll see you later."
I recorded some of our breakfast conversation. The audio is not the best - I'm too loud, he's too quiet, and there is a lot of background noise - but I thought Jim in particular could stand to hear a bit more of Dad's voice.
A couple of times he looked like he saw something and I asked about it. He said "I've seen Max run by a couple of times. He sure is busy." He had a couple of bites and a few more sips of the soy milk before asking to go back to the room.
He looked at the door and said how nice it was decorated. He told me about a visit from Bonnie and Tak, although he could not remember much.
He laid down after a great labor to move from the chair to the bed. He lays here moaning with almost every breath. I've got the heating pad on him and try to comfort him from time to time, but it does not seem to help much. His eyes move around the room as he is seeing things. I'm certain that between the lack of calories and input from his own eyes, that his brain still needs to see something and conjures up images from old memories and mashes them together.
I sat there for about twenty minutes and finally sad good-bye. He said, "Okay hon, I'm going to take a nap and see what happens. I'll see you later."
I recorded some of our breakfast conversation. The audio is not the best - I'm too loud, he's too quiet, and there is a lot of background noise - but I thought Jim in particular could stand to hear a bit more of Dad's voice.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Ten, Eleven, Twelve
My theory is they get Dad ready first because he is easy, easy-going, and quick to put together. That's why once again he was in the dining room with Chuck long before most of the other residents. I gave him the old, "How are you doing this bright and cheery morning?", a greeting I truly loathed when I started with him at Valley Machine. Something about hearing it every...single...day for thirteen years and many times after that at the tennis court now gave it a much more endearing quality. Of course THE standard response, the one I was hoping for today, "Bright and cheery, thank you!", did not come. Instead I got the "I'm not so sure".
I told him the date was ten-eleven-twelve. I had to repeat it several times. He started to say, "In a month I'll be...oh never mind..I don't know". Maria came around for the breakfast order and he said, "I had two sips of orange juice, two sips of apple juice and I'm full! I don't know".
We sat a little longer and he told me he saw the black cat and Max would come out of the side of his wheelchair. He said he wanted to go back to the room and, because it was being cleaned, we waited in the hall. Over the course of five minutes he told me of the baby in diapers, the little girl with curly hair dressed in gingham, the black kitty, and Max again. "Can you see them clearly, Dad?"
"I can see them pretty well. Look there is the baby!"
"Is it as clearly as if you had your glasses on?"
"No, not that clear"
"Do they ever say anything?"
"Oh, no, no! Then I'd REALLY be worried!"
"Well, Halloween is this month"
At that, he gave me the scary look, hands out in front shaking, and say, "Wooooooooo"
It's 8:40 now. He is sleeping fitfully. He woke with a start and said something about Cate and a shower, then apologized for not washing his face this morning (it looked fine). I said good-bye and took his headphones off. He said, "Don't work too hard", as I gave him a thumbs up and kissed him again. "It's okay...I'm okay now, you take care."
I told him the date was ten-eleven-twelve. I had to repeat it several times. He started to say, "In a month I'll be...oh never mind..I don't know". Maria came around for the breakfast order and he said, "I had two sips of orange juice, two sips of apple juice and I'm full! I don't know".
We sat a little longer and he told me he saw the black cat and Max would come out of the side of his wheelchair. He said he wanted to go back to the room and, because it was being cleaned, we waited in the hall. Over the course of five minutes he told me of the baby in diapers, the little girl with curly hair dressed in gingham, the black kitty, and Max again. "Can you see them clearly, Dad?"
"I can see them pretty well. Look there is the baby!"
"Is it as clearly as if you had your glasses on?"
"No, not that clear"
"Do they ever say anything?"
"Oh, no, no! Then I'd REALLY be worried!"
"Well, Halloween is this month"
At that, he gave me the scary look, hands out in front shaking, and say, "Wooooooooo"
It's 8:40 now. He is sleeping fitfully. He woke with a start and said something about Cate and a shower, then apologized for not washing his face this morning (it looked fine). I said good-bye and took his headphones off. He said, "Don't work too hard", as I gave him a thumbs up and kissed him again. "It's okay...I'm okay now, you take care."
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Another Day, Another Blessing
Wednesday, October 10
I got up this morning with every intention of getting to Rosewood at my normal 9 am, but that didn't happen. Instead, I continued my hunt for the book mom was writing.. a treasure that continues to elude me. I arrived around noon and Dad was sleeping. Both Bill and Tom were there and both said that dad had been having some 'illusions' again. He looked tired. I gave Bill the digital picture frame, which I am storing pictures on for display, and asked him to try and figure it out for me, as all of the settings are in Chinese. As I took a step back, dad said something. He was speaking to someone. I put his ears on and asked who he saw - his reply, "The guy with the brown suit." He did that type of thing often throughout the afternoon. His breathing seemed a bit more labored and the three of us sat there, staring at him.. worrying, wondering.. About 4:30ish, one of us, I can't remember who, asked Dad if he would like to get up and think about having some soup for dinner. (Dad) "Sure" Tom and Bill got him into the wheelchair and I went to grab a bowl of soup. We started to wheel him out to his side patio and he asked to go the other way, to the patio he was accustomed to. I brought him soup, of which he only ate 2 spoonfuls before pushing it away, even though he declared he sure thought they made good soup here. The conversation turned to the election as Bill got him registered to vote by mail, something he was looking forward to doing.(and that's the thing, he still looks forward). I wished John and Jim were there.. as he seemed so alert and interested in the conversation. We talked about other stuff too, but I can't remember what it was.. you know Tom, he is so good at talking to Dad about the darnedest things (I admire that in him, more than he can imagine!) It soon got too cold on that side and we wheeled him back over to his room, took him out his sliding door and sat there, where it was more protected from the breeze. Chuck came over and visited for a while, showing off his new grabbing device (this one supplied by Rosewood). His previous two devices, both made by him were confiscated by staff. They were both ingenious designs - # 1, a hacked up plastic clothes hanger with the rounded edges kept on so he could hook stuff and # 2 -another plastic hanger hacked up, this time with a set of wire cutters hospital wrapped to the end, so he could pick up or cut stuff. Both were deemed to be dangerous, and likely were. Dad got tired and it became obvious that visiting hours were over. I wheeled Chuck back to his room while the boys got Dad in bed. When I got Chuck to his room, he asked me to come in and sit for a minute, which I did. He told me that our family had helped him make it through his dark days of watching Pauline (his wife) just lay in her bed unable to communicate. He said he loved us as if we were his own 'kin' and that he honestly thought of Dad as his friend. It was sweet. I assured him that his love of song, women and corny jokes had most certainly helped up through this difficult time and he started to cry. But in true Chuck fashion.. said, "look you brought a tear to my ear.. just kiddin"
It's 7 pm and Dad is in bed, the IV is connected, the boys left. I am watching dad as he seems to be seeing something again.. he is making noise, but I cannot discern what it is. His face is really itchy tonight, so I put some lotion on. His eye is a bit bloody, the Doc will look at it tomorrow. I asked the nurse to please have the night nurse check in on him.
It's 7:30 and he told me I should go. He seems restless. I asked if I could stay for 5 more minutes, he said, "Ok hon".. I hate leaving..
I got up this morning with every intention of getting to Rosewood at my normal 9 am, but that didn't happen. Instead, I continued my hunt for the book mom was writing.. a treasure that continues to elude me. I arrived around noon and Dad was sleeping. Both Bill and Tom were there and both said that dad had been having some 'illusions' again. He looked tired. I gave Bill the digital picture frame, which I am storing pictures on for display, and asked him to try and figure it out for me, as all of the settings are in Chinese. As I took a step back, dad said something. He was speaking to someone. I put his ears on and asked who he saw - his reply, "The guy with the brown suit." He did that type of thing often throughout the afternoon. His breathing seemed a bit more labored and the three of us sat there, staring at him.. worrying, wondering.. About 4:30ish, one of us, I can't remember who, asked Dad if he would like to get up and think about having some soup for dinner. (Dad) "Sure" Tom and Bill got him into the wheelchair and I went to grab a bowl of soup. We started to wheel him out to his side patio and he asked to go the other way, to the patio he was accustomed to. I brought him soup, of which he only ate 2 spoonfuls before pushing it away, even though he declared he sure thought they made good soup here. The conversation turned to the election as Bill got him registered to vote by mail, something he was looking forward to doing.(and that's the thing, he still looks forward). I wished John and Jim were there.. as he seemed so alert and interested in the conversation. We talked about other stuff too, but I can't remember what it was.. you know Tom, he is so good at talking to Dad about the darnedest things (I admire that in him, more than he can imagine!) It soon got too cold on that side and we wheeled him back over to his room, took him out his sliding door and sat there, where it was more protected from the breeze. Chuck came over and visited for a while, showing off his new grabbing device (this one supplied by Rosewood). His previous two devices, both made by him were confiscated by staff. They were both ingenious designs - # 1, a hacked up plastic clothes hanger with the rounded edges kept on so he could hook stuff and # 2 -another plastic hanger hacked up, this time with a set of wire cutters hospital wrapped to the end, so he could pick up or cut stuff. Both were deemed to be dangerous, and likely were. Dad got tired and it became obvious that visiting hours were over. I wheeled Chuck back to his room while the boys got Dad in bed. When I got Chuck to his room, he asked me to come in and sit for a minute, which I did. He told me that our family had helped him make it through his dark days of watching Pauline (his wife) just lay in her bed unable to communicate. He said he loved us as if we were his own 'kin' and that he honestly thought of Dad as his friend. It was sweet. I assured him that his love of song, women and corny jokes had most certainly helped up through this difficult time and he started to cry. But in true Chuck fashion.. said, "look you brought a tear to my ear.. just kiddin"
It's 7 pm and Dad is in bed, the IV is connected, the boys left. I am watching dad as he seems to be seeing something again.. he is making noise, but I cannot discern what it is. His face is really itchy tonight, so I put some lotion on. His eye is a bit bloody, the Doc will look at it tomorrow. I asked the nurse to please have the night nurse check in on him.
It's 7:30 and he told me I should go. He seems restless. I asked if I could stay for 5 more minutes, he said, "Ok hon".. I hate leaving..
October 10th - Seeing Cats
Dad was being wheeled into the dining room when I walked through the front door. He looked more tired than usual. We waited for breakfast. I asked Maria for some applesauce. He had a couple of small spoonfuls. He fell asleep a couple of times - so did Chuck who spilled his hot chocolate. I reminded myself to keep a closer eye on him and was able to prevent a second incident by waking him up in time.
Maria brought some scrambled eggs and Dad said "Now you're talking." He had a couple of bites. He would sit back and wait a considerable amount of time between bites. Sometimes he would get this look of anguish on his face. He was really trying to stay awake and turned to me and said, "Everything is trying to go blank." I just let that hang in the air and did not ask what he meant.
A short time later, watching his face, he almost chuckled to himself. I asked what he saw and he replied, "A cat. I just saw a cat go across there", pointing to a spot right in front of him.
About 8:10 he asked to go back to the room. I had tried to engage him in conversation but, even though the amplifier was working, he did not appear to understand much. "Looks like it might rain tonight", I said twice into the mic before he replied, "I guess it will catch up with you."
Back in the room he rinsed his mouth, but did not upchuck. He crawled into bed saying he was cold. I put the heating pad on him and he said, "That's nice." He fell asleep, woke up, fell asleep. I adjusted the heating pad and he said, "I'm going in and out". Later, he said "You gotta go pretty soon". I did not want to leave the heating pad on with him alone, so I hung around a little longer. Some days it's harder to leave than others...
Maria brought some scrambled eggs and Dad said "Now you're talking." He had a couple of bites. He would sit back and wait a considerable amount of time between bites. Sometimes he would get this look of anguish on his face. He was really trying to stay awake and turned to me and said, "Everything is trying to go blank." I just let that hang in the air and did not ask what he meant.
A short time later, watching his face, he almost chuckled to himself. I asked what he saw and he replied, "A cat. I just saw a cat go across there", pointing to a spot right in front of him.
About 8:10 he asked to go back to the room. I had tried to engage him in conversation but, even though the amplifier was working, he did not appear to understand much. "Looks like it might rain tonight", I said twice into the mic before he replied, "I guess it will catch up with you."
Back in the room he rinsed his mouth, but did not upchuck. He crawled into bed saying he was cold. I put the heating pad on him and he said, "That's nice." He fell asleep, woke up, fell asleep. I adjusted the heating pad and he said, "I'm going in and out". Later, he said "You gotta go pretty soon". I did not want to leave the heating pad on with him alone, so I hung around a little longer. Some days it's harder to leave than others...
If I could get another chance, another walk, another dance with him I’d play a song that would never, ever end.
Tuesday - October 9, 2012
I wanted to go to sleep early tonight.. but it seems I am afraid to go to sleep at all... The individual days have gone... and what I have now are blended and jumbled moments of storytelling, kisses and "I love yous".
Dad had a busy past few days with visits from Aunt Margie and her daughter Terri, Jim, Debbielu and Nikki, Debbie, Tommy, Sarah, Rob and the kids, as well as Michael, Kristy, their kids, Kevin, Nancy and John Thomas and some of his tennis friends.
The reality is that our Dad is slipping away and the sadness is that, although we have had this beautiful time with him, alas.. we are not ready. I think we all feel cheated out of the years we thought we had just a few months ago.
Over the past 12 days I have been awestruck over and over again; at the strength of Aunt Marge -In true Harrer style, she mustered the resolve to whisk away her tears, smile and give hugs, even though she was hurting. She told me it was "a wonderful visit with her brother, sharing stories of old times, good laughs the comfort of being able to see him again." Secondly, at the strength of my family. I loved having all of my brothers around - and dad told me after all the company was gone that "it was a really good visit" He went on to say, "that sure was nice of everyone to come visit" - so, Thank YOU.. to you all!! Thirdly, I realized today how much I care about this lovely array of kind of wacky people at Rosewood. I love Chuck - I honestly do!. I believe he is genuinely one of the sweetest, funniest, most loveable people I have ever had the pleasure to share a song with. Then there is Mr. Comelli (who we strangely call Mr. K and has a deep love of french fries - or should I say ketchup and the french fries are only the vehicle), His Honor Mr. King (who dad worries about being able to get food to his mouth, and somehow he makes it each time) Helen (who always asks, "How's Dad today?" and I know she honestly wants the news), and Margie's (not to be confused with Aunt Marge) ever watchful eye, no matter where in the room she is sitting (who made it to the big house today.. go Margie).. and our sweet Mary Moon (who wanders the hall, one moment blissful and the other pounding on the wall - confirming to everyone she is Japanese American and that Tom is "nice lady").. the world in which they live is both amazing and scary for me.. but this community brings me joy and laughter every day.
As I sat on the edge of dad's bed rubbing his stomach (he thinks I got lessons from John - who he has declared has magic hands and the best massager of us all!), I realized that this was yet another day I did not expect to share with him. He is tired and weak but holds on to life with a strength which has honestly left me breathless. He has told me he loved me, cupped my face in his hands, laid his head on my shoulder and reached out for a sweet kiss on the lips. We have cried together and he has comforted me, telling me not to be sad. I have had the opportunity to apologize to him for any disappointment I caused and he said.. "Oh no hon.. no regrets" and I knew he meant it. And in private I have gotten to tell him how deeply I love him, how grateful I am for all he has done, how much I admire and respect him and how his unwavering love and pride enabled me to become the person I was meant to be.
He is now in a private room and this is a blessing. As he grows weaker, we all sit by his bed and look for connections, for moments.. for more time. I got to Rosewood about 9 am.. Dad was asleep. I sat quietly on his bed for about an hour when he looked towards me and said, "Where did you go?" I reached over to get his earset and put them on.. I asked, "What, Dad?" (Dad) Where did you go? (I had the real sense he wasn't talking to me) I asked, "Dad.. do yo know who I am?" He looked at me for a few seconds.. then seemed to have this change.. and looked at me differently before saying, "Hi Hon". I admit, it threw me off a bit... I replied, "Hi Dad, how are you doing today?" (Dad) "Not so good". That was the first time he had offered "not so good" so I asked him what was bothering him and he said, his stomach and asked me to feel it. I did, it is so taut, I am sure the discomfort is enormous. So, I sat on his bed and rubbed his tummy a while longer. I asked if it felt good and he said, "Oh, yea". Bill came around 10, just as he was arriving, so was Pastor Terry (I had requested a visit). I introduced Pastor Terry to dad and asked if it would be alright if the Pastor visited with him for a while. Dad seemed responsive, said "sure". Bill and I stepped out of the room and let them speak privately. As Bill and I were in the hall way, we read John's post and saw the comments about the 'curly headed girl'.. It was disconcerting.. and scary... Bill and I stood in the hallway, holding on to each other as we both wondered if we were stepping in to the next chapter. Pastor Terry came out and let us know they had a good talk and that he would be back tomorrow... He said that Dad had told him he was looking forward to seeing Mom again and seemed at peace with what was eminent (his words).
We took Dad to the lunch room, but he didn't want to eat and asked to go back to his room. Once there, he wanted to nap, but before putting him to bed, Tom asked him if he would rather have his room decorated for Halloween or Thanksgiving.. his quick answer... "Thanksgiving" We stayed for a while longer as dad fell asleep. I noticed his breathing seems to be a bit more labored. The nurse came in and took his temp, it was 96.4.
Off Tom and I went in search of Thanksgiving decorations (all we could find was Halloween, so we had to call Mary for a bailout-thanks Mary). When we returned an hour later, Tom thought it would be a good idea to try and get Dad to sit up and move his body just a bit, so I woke him and asked if he felt okay to go sit outside and get some fresh air; his reply, "sounds good." Tom, Mary, Bill, Dad and I went to the patio on his new side of the building. It was quiet and peaceful. The five of us sat there for a few minutes whenTom broke the silence with the question, "Dad, what was your favorite TV show?" (Dad) "Fibber McGee and Molly".. Tom got on his iPhone, had SIRI (who Tom is convinced is his personal secretary) look it up, and within minutes was playing a short broadcast for dad.. it was sweet. (Dad) "Yea, that's it." (Bill) "Dad, what do you think was your best accomplishment?" (Dad) "Oh, I don't know" (he pondered for a while) "I think making parts for the space ships that went to the moon." (I'm not sure I knew he did that - and he also divulged that he never finished dry cleaner certification school - oops) The conversation quickly moved to little league baseball, the years he managed the "Lil Yanks" and his winning seasons. Bill asked Dad what he thought Tom's biggest accomplishment was.. (Dad) "Oh, probably working nights and getting the electricity back on for people".. (Bill) What about Catie? (Dad) "Touched by an Angel.. she did a good job on that." (Dad) "What is your biggest accomplishment? (Bill) "What do you think it is, dad?" (Dad) "I asked you first." then relenting.. he said "managing all those people - being a good manager" (Bill) What about John? (Dad) "He caught on to being a machinist real quick" (Bill) and Jim? (Dad) "Starting his own company.. turning it in to millions" (Bill) and what about Mary? (Dad) "Keeping Tom in line... and pie!" (Bill) What is the most favorite thing Mary makes for you? (Dad) "Split Pea Soup" (Mary) Not chicken pot pie? (Dad) "Oh that was before, but now (he took a breath and we could see he was getting tired) it's pea soup." Tom and I marveled how, no matter what, Dad is always practical, even now.
(Bill) "If there is one thing you would want us kids to remember, what would it be?"
(Dad) "That's a good question.. hmm.. I don't know, I have to think about that."
We sat outside for a few more minutes and Dad told us Switzerland was the most favorite place he visited.. and he told us of the day Jim was born.. (Dad) "The doctor came out and told us he wasn't going to make it.. your mother looked at him and said, "oh yes he is.. not get your butt back in there" .. now look at him!" The questions and answer session continued as he told us his favorite time with mom was on their honeymoon in the Ozarks where is was bitten by a tick and almost died from Rocky Mountain Spotted Tick Fever.. go figure that somehow that was his best time with mom.. that he never played sports in high school because he had to deliver the newspaper and .. (and for me, this was one of the funniest moment of the afternoon).. he said rain or snow he had to deliver the paper.. and Bill said, "Kind of like Tom, huh Dad?" and then Tom said, "but dad.. when the weather was bad, you thought oh no.. when the weather was bad for me.. I saw dollar signs... " and Dad looked at him and said.. "oh yea.. dollar signs.." and they were all laughing.
Tom asked his favorite tennis player.. "Andre Agassi" His favorite modern technology??? It was the interstate highway - he thought it was real important that the highways connected North and South, East and West. For a self taught man, that was some incredible logic. Again, I was in awe of how he thinks and what he determines to be significant. We talked about his inventions.. and all the patents we were going to file.. and never did, like my personal favorite, the portable garbage can for picnics and camping or the clips he made to put on an outside table so the table cloth didn't blow away. Bill and Tom remembered (albeit differently) the device dad made to open the air conditioner vents in the house (remember that plastic handle that hung from the ceiling vents?) and Tom told dad his favorite was "air conditioning for cars" and we reminisced about the trips to Bakersfield with old fashion air-conditioning (rolled down windows) and again, we all laughed. And then, the fatigue got to him and he wanted to go back in and take a nap. It was 4:30 pm.. I left about 6 pm.. dad had not eaten.. Bill let me know that he didn't end up eating tonight.. just slept.. and kept telling Bill to go home... I'm fearful of what tomorrow might bring... But whatever it is.. I know that we will make it through together... because we are his kids.. and we come from his strength but if I had one wish.. it would be for another day with Dad.. "To dance with my Father again..." Love, Sis. PS.. wishes come true.. off to spend another day, which I know in my heart is a Gift from God.
I wanted to go to sleep early tonight.. but it seems I am afraid to go to sleep at all... The individual days have gone... and what I have now are blended and jumbled moments of storytelling, kisses and "I love yous".
Dad had a busy past few days with visits from Aunt Margie and her daughter Terri, Jim, Debbielu and Nikki, Debbie, Tommy, Sarah, Rob and the kids, as well as Michael, Kristy, their kids, Kevin, Nancy and John Thomas and some of his tennis friends.
The reality is that our Dad is slipping away and the sadness is that, although we have had this beautiful time with him, alas.. we are not ready. I think we all feel cheated out of the years we thought we had just a few months ago.
Over the past 12 days I have been awestruck over and over again; at the strength of Aunt Marge -In true Harrer style, she mustered the resolve to whisk away her tears, smile and give hugs, even though she was hurting. She told me it was "a wonderful visit with her brother, sharing stories of old times, good laughs the comfort of being able to see him again." Secondly, at the strength of my family. I loved having all of my brothers around - and dad told me after all the company was gone that "it was a really good visit" He went on to say, "that sure was nice of everyone to come visit" - so, Thank YOU.. to you all!! Thirdly, I realized today how much I care about this lovely array of kind of wacky people at Rosewood. I love Chuck - I honestly do!. I believe he is genuinely one of the sweetest, funniest, most loveable people I have ever had the pleasure to share a song with. Then there is Mr. Comelli (who we strangely call Mr. K and has a deep love of french fries - or should I say ketchup and the french fries are only the vehicle), His Honor Mr. King (who dad worries about being able to get food to his mouth, and somehow he makes it each time) Helen (who always asks, "How's Dad today?" and I know she honestly wants the news), and Margie's (not to be confused with Aunt Marge) ever watchful eye, no matter where in the room she is sitting (who made it to the big house today.. go Margie).. and our sweet Mary Moon (who wanders the hall, one moment blissful and the other pounding on the wall - confirming to everyone she is Japanese American and that Tom is "nice lady").. the world in which they live is both amazing and scary for me.. but this community brings me joy and laughter every day.
As I sat on the edge of dad's bed rubbing his stomach (he thinks I got lessons from John - who he has declared has magic hands and the best massager of us all!), I realized that this was yet another day I did not expect to share with him. He is tired and weak but holds on to life with a strength which has honestly left me breathless. He has told me he loved me, cupped my face in his hands, laid his head on my shoulder and reached out for a sweet kiss on the lips. We have cried together and he has comforted me, telling me not to be sad. I have had the opportunity to apologize to him for any disappointment I caused and he said.. "Oh no hon.. no regrets" and I knew he meant it. And in private I have gotten to tell him how deeply I love him, how grateful I am for all he has done, how much I admire and respect him and how his unwavering love and pride enabled me to become the person I was meant to be.
He is now in a private room and this is a blessing. As he grows weaker, we all sit by his bed and look for connections, for moments.. for more time. I got to Rosewood about 9 am.. Dad was asleep. I sat quietly on his bed for about an hour when he looked towards me and said, "Where did you go?" I reached over to get his earset and put them on.. I asked, "What, Dad?" (Dad) Where did you go? (I had the real sense he wasn't talking to me) I asked, "Dad.. do yo know who I am?" He looked at me for a few seconds.. then seemed to have this change.. and looked at me differently before saying, "Hi Hon". I admit, it threw me off a bit... I replied, "Hi Dad, how are you doing today?" (Dad) "Not so good". That was the first time he had offered "not so good" so I asked him what was bothering him and he said, his stomach and asked me to feel it. I did, it is so taut, I am sure the discomfort is enormous. So, I sat on his bed and rubbed his tummy a while longer. I asked if it felt good and he said, "Oh, yea". Bill came around 10, just as he was arriving, so was Pastor Terry (I had requested a visit). I introduced Pastor Terry to dad and asked if it would be alright if the Pastor visited with him for a while. Dad seemed responsive, said "sure". Bill and I stepped out of the room and let them speak privately. As Bill and I were in the hall way, we read John's post and saw the comments about the 'curly headed girl'.. It was disconcerting.. and scary... Bill and I stood in the hallway, holding on to each other as we both wondered if we were stepping in to the next chapter. Pastor Terry came out and let us know they had a good talk and that he would be back tomorrow... He said that Dad had told him he was looking forward to seeing Mom again and seemed at peace with what was eminent (his words).
We took Dad to the lunch room, but he didn't want to eat and asked to go back to his room. Once there, he wanted to nap, but before putting him to bed, Tom asked him if he would rather have his room decorated for Halloween or Thanksgiving.. his quick answer... "Thanksgiving" We stayed for a while longer as dad fell asleep. I noticed his breathing seems to be a bit more labored. The nurse came in and took his temp, it was 96.4.
Off Tom and I went in search of Thanksgiving decorations (all we could find was Halloween, so we had to call Mary for a bailout-thanks Mary). When we returned an hour later, Tom thought it would be a good idea to try and get Dad to sit up and move his body just a bit, so I woke him and asked if he felt okay to go sit outside and get some fresh air; his reply, "sounds good." Tom, Mary, Bill, Dad and I went to the patio on his new side of the building. It was quiet and peaceful. The five of us sat there for a few minutes whenTom broke the silence with the question, "Dad, what was your favorite TV show?" (Dad) "Fibber McGee and Molly".. Tom got on his iPhone, had SIRI (who Tom is convinced is his personal secretary) look it up, and within minutes was playing a short broadcast for dad.. it was sweet. (Dad) "Yea, that's it." (Bill) "Dad, what do you think was your best accomplishment?" (Dad) "Oh, I don't know" (he pondered for a while) "I think making parts for the space ships that went to the moon." (I'm not sure I knew he did that - and he also divulged that he never finished dry cleaner certification school - oops) The conversation quickly moved to little league baseball, the years he managed the "Lil Yanks" and his winning seasons. Bill asked Dad what he thought Tom's biggest accomplishment was.. (Dad) "Oh, probably working nights and getting the electricity back on for people".. (Bill) What about Catie? (Dad) "Touched by an Angel.. she did a good job on that." (Dad) "What is your biggest accomplishment? (Bill) "What do you think it is, dad?" (Dad) "I asked you first." then relenting.. he said "managing all those people - being a good manager" (Bill) What about John? (Dad) "He caught on to being a machinist real quick" (Bill) and Jim? (Dad) "Starting his own company.. turning it in to millions" (Bill) and what about Mary? (Dad) "Keeping Tom in line... and pie!" (Bill) What is the most favorite thing Mary makes for you? (Dad) "Split Pea Soup" (Mary) Not chicken pot pie? (Dad) "Oh that was before, but now (he took a breath and we could see he was getting tired) it's pea soup." Tom and I marveled how, no matter what, Dad is always practical, even now.
(Bill) "If there is one thing you would want us kids to remember, what would it be?"
(Dad) "That's a good question.. hmm.. I don't know, I have to think about that."
We sat outside for a few more minutes and Dad told us Switzerland was the most favorite place he visited.. and he told us of the day Jim was born.. (Dad) "The doctor came out and told us he wasn't going to make it.. your mother looked at him and said, "oh yes he is.. not get your butt back in there" .. now look at him!" The questions and answer session continued as he told us his favorite time with mom was on their honeymoon in the Ozarks where is was bitten by a tick and almost died from Rocky Mountain Spotted Tick Fever.. go figure that somehow that was his best time with mom.. that he never played sports in high school because he had to deliver the newspaper and .. (and for me, this was one of the funniest moment of the afternoon).. he said rain or snow he had to deliver the paper.. and Bill said, "Kind of like Tom, huh Dad?" and then Tom said, "but dad.. when the weather was bad, you thought oh no.. when the weather was bad for me.. I saw dollar signs... " and Dad looked at him and said.. "oh yea.. dollar signs.." and they were all laughing.
Tom asked his favorite tennis player.. "Andre Agassi" His favorite modern technology??? It was the interstate highway - he thought it was real important that the highways connected North and South, East and West. For a self taught man, that was some incredible logic. Again, I was in awe of how he thinks and what he determines to be significant. We talked about his inventions.. and all the patents we were going to file.. and never did, like my personal favorite, the portable garbage can for picnics and camping or the clips he made to put on an outside table so the table cloth didn't blow away. Bill and Tom remembered (albeit differently) the device dad made to open the air conditioner vents in the house (remember that plastic handle that hung from the ceiling vents?) and Tom told dad his favorite was "air conditioning for cars" and we reminisced about the trips to Bakersfield with old fashion air-conditioning (rolled down windows) and again, we all laughed. And then, the fatigue got to him and he wanted to go back in and take a nap. It was 4:30 pm.. I left about 6 pm.. dad had not eaten.. Bill let me know that he didn't end up eating tonight.. just slept.. and kept telling Bill to go home... I'm fearful of what tomorrow might bring... But whatever it is.. I know that we will make it through together... because we are his kids.. and we come from his strength but if I had one wish.. it would be for another day with Dad.. "To dance with my Father again..." Love, Sis. PS.. wishes come true.. off to spend another day, which I know in my heart is a Gift from God.
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