Looking at the world today. In restaurants, families all siting around on their individual phones. No one talking, visiting, pay attention to the others, much less looking at each other. How many opportunities missed with those near us.
Recently, I lost my dad, he was 93 and mentally full of life, physically, not so much. He began falling more over the past year and a half. He wouldn't tell anyone. At one point, his doctor called me with him in her office and asked if he had told me about a fall he had. They know that I live 11 hours away from him, so she was hoping that he would at least tell his daughter about it. I couldn't help her, he stopped telling me about his falls months ago. He refused to downsize and move into assisted living, he refused to move closer to me, he was a man of his own and wanted to stay that way. I begged him, found nice and affordable places for him near me, alas, in vain. I told my husband once that my dad will do out like Elijah, in a fiery chariot of modern times.
He did.
He fell in his bathroom on Easter Sunday night and during the next 20 days, I traveled 38 hours back and forth to Nashville, TN to care for him in the hospital and clean out his apartment at the end. By this time, my dad had been living on his own for way too long and had no strength in his worn-out frame to muster any healing from the brain bleed and then the femur bone break that happened in the rehab hospital. Evidently, he was an aspiration risk back at the intensive care unit and the medical professionals recommended he go to hospice. I fought that for 2 days asking that he go to skilled nursing first and heal there. He was so sweet and happy that my brother and I were there for him. He kept telling me that he loved me and was so happy that I was there to care for him. He kept asking where he was going next, what was the plan. I had planned on moving him closer to me and found an assisted living place for him and Rocky, his dog. The hospital personnel gave me no choice but hospice. Hospice, the dreaded option. Finally, after my brother said it was the best, I signed him over. They transferred him at 2:30 pm on Friday, April 19, 2024. My husband and I still had dad's apartment to deal with, so we went there and worked on getting it cleaned out. We finally got back to dad in his new location, the hospice facility. It was dark, quiet, sterile. Dad was dozing. I went to find a "nurse" to find out how dad was and what the plan was. She showed up and I told her that his hands and arms were swelling and needed attention. She simply said, "Oh, we won't be concerned about that." I was shocked and said, "What?" Quickly, she said, "We can put some pillows to prop them up." I never saw any pillows. Anyway, luckily, he wasn't too drugged. I said hi to him and he woke and he was partially sitting up. He was in a new gown and covered sufficiently. The room was warm with the TV on low. I stood next to him and asked him how he was. He looked at me and said, "I don't like this place." "But Dad, it's quiet here, you aren't hooked up with anything, you can get some rest and heal your leg." He mumbled something away from me and all I could get was ...tomorrow." He turned back to me and gave me the biggest smile..teethy and sweetly... I looked at him and moved by all he has been through told him I loved him. He said he loved me too. He asked me if I remembered when I needed his help and that he did help me, "Didn't I?" "Yes, you did, yes you did help me." I love you, Dad" "I love you too." he said. "Do you think Biden will win this election?" "Oh, I don't know, Dad, I really don't know." shaking my head. Only until weeks after, did I realize that he was scared and trying to make conversation. Damn! why couldn't I have stayed with him longer and talked politics with him....one more time. Oh, Dad, I'm so sorry! We left after a while, he started to doze and I was tired and would see him in the morning before we left to drive 11 hours back home.
In the morning, I arrived to see dad and he was in a deep sleep with his mouth wide open breathing heavily...Oh NO!! Not Dad!! A nurse showed up and I said to her, "Well, you have him all drugged up so I can't talk to him." She coldly responded, "He was in pain, did you want him in pain?" "No, but there could have been a happy medium!" She walked away. I tried to talk to him for a few minutes and realizing it was no use, I sang him the same song I sang mom before she died the day after I left her. The Winnie the Pooh song....I sang it the best I could for him, hoping he could hear me and the love that I had for him. I then reached into my purse for my holy water bottle and spraying his face and chest with it. I left....never to see him again. The next night he was gone, 6:40 pm CST April 21, 2024. Will I ever be able to forget this and feel good about it? NO.
We lost mom a year and a half ago, she was 90 and riddled with both types of arthritis along with gut issues. Basically, mom's body was her enemy her whole adult life with ulcers, arthritis, and emotional issues. We think she was bi-polar; she was up all the world was right, but when she was down, stay in your room and keep quiet. She kept our home spotless, and she was a good cook, too. She loved us and she was great at making our favorite meals, baking us birthday cakes and making sure we were ok. Dad left her for another woman in 1981, just in time for her to see the three of us leave the nest and the change of life hit her. She was alone in a big house with grown kids getting involved in their own lives and not seeing what she was going through. Twenty-six years down the drain. Luckily, she had worked her way up the banking latter and was doing pretty well as a branch manager. But not right away during the divorce. She said nothing, how did she do that?
When I married, we moved away from mom. That was so hard, I cried for the first few months. Mom never complained that we left and thought my husband hung the moon. She seemed happy that I was settled with a good man and my own family. Later she told me that after work, instead of going straight home, she would go to Wendy's and get a coke and French fries and just sit and basically cry. Now when I think of that, I wish I had been there for her, sat with her and ate French fries with her....and cried. During her years along, which spanned 40 years, she struggled with her health. She sold the house and bought an upstairs condo and decorated it in all her favorite colors.
We cannot look at life and laugh in the face of fate. We cannot look at the future as if it's ours for the taking. We were never promised a future, much less tomorrow, never.
We lost mom a year and a half ago, she was 90 and riddled with both types of arthritis along with gut issues. Basically, mom's body was her enemy her whole adult life with ulcers, arthritis, and emotional issues. We think she was bi-polar; she was up all the world was right, but when she was down, stay in your room and keep quiet. She kept our home spotless, and she was a good cook, too. She loved us and she was great at making our favorite meals, baking us birthday cakes and making sure we were ok. Dad left her for another woman in 1981, just in time for her to see the three of us leave the nest and the change of life hit her. She was alone in a big house with grown kids getting involved in their own lives and not seeing what she was going through. Twenty-six years down the drain. Luckily, she had worked her way up the banking latter and was doing pretty well as a branch manager. But not right away during the divorce. She said nothing, how did she do that?
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