It is nearly midnight and my thoughts constantly drift to my father. I feel I must write to ensure that some of my feelings and thoughts from these days are never forgotten, but engraved in my memory to draw strength from in the days and weeks to come.This is an incredibly hard journey sitting hour after hour slowly watching my father die.
I feel strong, then weak ..... I feel love, then hate ....... I feel compassion, then anger ........ I feel frustration, then acceptance...... I feel peace, then restlessness.
I am awash with so many emotions that tonight sleep eludes me.
In the earlier days of my father's illness, we were able to sit and talk .... now I just sit and watch as he grows weaker and weaker slipping in and out of consciousness. When he wakes, he suffers pain & restlessness & dehydration & discomfort.
The cycle of life has come full circle. My father is like an infant, unable to perform anything in caring for himself. The simple acts of washing himself, brushing his teeth, putting on a pair of socks, even urinating have all dropped away like the last leaves before the cold breath of winter. What must this be like for a man who was once dignified, modest and proud?
But then through this emotional warfare I see that this is his final gift to me as I care for him during his last days. Yesterday when he was a little more lucid, I sat beside him as he slept. He woke and asked me what I doing there. I replied, "just sitting with you to keep you company". I told him I loved him and he replied that he loved me too, then smiled and drifted back to sleep. A very small moment but a memory that I will cherish.
Today my daughter came to visit her poppa. When she embraced him, his tears flowed with the love he felt for my child ..... another memory I will cherish. How many more moments will he have that I can collect memories from to hold in my heart for a lifetime? Each time I say good bye ... is it the last good bye? When I left tonight I stole into his room to give him a kiss goodnight and tell him once again how much I love him, but he slept. He did not know I was there as I stroked his cheek and felt the newly grown whiskers on his face. The softness of his whiskers against my face must be lovingly recorded and filed away with all my other cherished memories. As I left I touched my fingers to my lips to leave a kiss on his forehead ... will tonight be the night that I lose my dad, will that be the last kiss I give him?
Since Wednesday he has slipped further and further away from us. Today he asked mom three times to send me down to see him. When I got to his room and asked him what he wanted, he said he just wanted to see me.
Why should a man who devoted his life to God suffer like this? I am angry that he must end his life in suffering. This journey our spirit must make as we cross from this life to the next should not start like this. Why, why, why?
Dad has always been outspoken in his life, never shrinking from a challenge ... but this challenge to his very life is a war he cannot win. "Oh death - where is thy victory, oh grave where is thy sting"
As I sit and witness this slow deterioration, I pray night after night that he will be released from his suffering.
There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:
A time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
A time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
A time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
A time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
A time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
A time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
A time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
Ecclesiastes 3
3 comments:
I agree that this time we have with him is such a gift.. but it's a double edged sword. His pain and suffering are so hard to watch :(
I too pray that he will be released from his suffering and soon! Also for nannies sake. She too needs to let go and finally grief. Let the river flow!!!!
barb--so beautifully written, i'm sure that the act of writing this will both help you preserve it in memory and work through your own pain. i think it's a gift in and of itself.
i hope the end is peaceful.
all the best,
/julie
It is in our most challenging moments that it is revealed what we are made of. I have to say Barb that I am struck with how your strength is shining through at this difficult time in your life. I just hope and pray that when it is my turn I can summon even an ounce of your strength.
It is so wonderful how you are collecting memories of your dear father and spending as much time as you can doing so. So many people hide and run away from death. It is an inspiration to be witness to someone who is facing it so honestly. I just want to thank you for that. It has truly made a deep impression on me and I know I will be able to use this one day when it is my turn to face death.
Blessings to you and your family.
With all that I am.
Colleen
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