Got the text from my dad’s wife that he’s going downhill. He’s been on hospice for about 3 weeks at home but he’s no longer able to hold down food. It’s about 3 hours away so going to head out in the morning 😮💨 I just want to say goodbye. He looked so frail last I saw him.
Waiting. I’ve been ready since 8. She usually sleeps until the afternoon. I don’t want to be sitting in the drive way but it also takes a couple hours so when do I cut the difference and just go and ring the damn door bell “hey, it’s past noon! DGAF” 😫
I’m also agonizing over having to do this. Leaving my house to see my father for the last time. Anything to postpone 😔 I want to be there for him, still… he made an “exception” for me. It was always that he loved me “in spite” of my 🌈 inadequacies, the fault of my genetic disposition 😮💨
Thanks 👍 love ya too, I guess. Anytime I questioned his AUTHORITY it was disrespect. I told him respect was earned. He stopped calling, he stopped trying to have a relationship. He wasn’t going out of his way for someone who caused him such consternation. I knew he wasn’t going to change and didn’t want the kids to have to hear someone they’re supposed to love spewing fear of one’s “dilution of the gene pool” by having an origin absent from a select list of areas in Europe?
I told him what my boundary was in regards to what he says in front of them. Not even change your beliefs because that’s stupid. You believe in whatever the fuck makes you happy, including nothing!
He translated that into “no politics” but whatever works because I brought the kids out with me to spend a couple nights with them that they might actually remember. There was nothing planned, not much was said. I bought a lot of Chinese food, we watched movies with the kids.
19h from 15:52
Been here for a couple hours now. Staying the night. He’s awake but not really showing any recognition. He’s been watching peaceful YouTube. He’s not reacting, scratches his arm with slow, purposeful movement here and there… but it’s been hours without a word.
Took time off tomorrow as well, I don’t know how long I’ll stay. I’m hoping maybe he’ll have a good day tomorrow, maybe I’ll get one good look from him that says “I see you’re here”
I can’t feel what I need to feel right now.
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What to even write? Watching someone who cared for you, raised you, kept you safe… Just not be there any more?
I came to say goodbye for the last time, but turns out that was in November. Here he is several weeks past his 84th birthday, he’s breathing, but he’s already gone.
I’ll leave here later today. I’ll say goodbye to his wife for the last time.
His “eternal wife” isn’t it?
He’s gone. He died before I could leave. It was just about 12:30. The last thing he said to me last night as I sat beside him was “what time is it” quite clear which was a sharp contrast to his earlier utterings. I said “it’s just about 10 o’clock”
I stayed by his side until close to 1. His eyes gazing at the screen going in and out of sleep, watching a man on a mountainside, most likely somewhere in Canada, repairing a stone cabin. Creating rain gutters out of trees affixing them with ornate cuts of wood then going back to his tent with a wood stove.
At some point it changed to a man building a cabin with a loft out of the local trees they fell. They used a portable miller to make the boards in the sizes they needed. I thought it was YouTube but there were no commercials, no cuts that I remember.
It was like watching my own memories played back from when I was maybe 10? My brother (his step son) was building his house, up on a mountain side, below a natural spring for water, using solar for power, and a wood stove for heat.
I hope that’s what was going through his head too. That time was the happiest I remember him being.
I fell asleep in the chair. I woke up a bit before 2 and headed to the spare bedroom. I went to sleep until about 9. Woke up, grabbed some Chinese food from the night before and went to sit next to him.
The last thing I said to my father was “good morning Dad”. I hung out, worked on my taxes, and checked in with the Internet. I was getting my things together to head out. I had offered my services for whatever might need to be done but there was nothing, which I was pleased with.
I was putting on my socks, I could see his chest rising and falling in the hospital bed next to me in the living room. I got up, turned to his wife eating breakfast, looked back at him… His chest wasn’t moving. Nothing was moving. I stared for a few moments. I had to be SURE before I said something. No, that’s definitely the case.
“I don’t think his chest is moving” I said through my mask. “What?” My heart was in my throat. I tried to be calm and enunciate. “I don’t think his chest is moving.” “What?” She leaned in closer, I too leaned in: “his chest. It’s not moving” and she finally heard me and got up.
A look of fear, awash in relief came over her as she wheeled herself over on her wheeled stool. She checked for a pulse, she said his name, moved his fragile arms, put her hand on his chest, and dropped her head in sorrow.