That one night a year ago was the night that would be the beginning of the end for Dad. I wasn’t there. I remember telling him the day before that he needed to be good because I wouldn’t be around to take him to the hospital if he needed. I said it jokingly because that’s how we talked. Daddy’s girl. We spoke mainly light heartedly, with a little sarcasm, a little making fun of something serious, a little honesty and a little serious. But he said ok in that same jokey tone.
A day or so later, I got a text from my brother telling me Dad wasn’t feeling well. I called Dad asap. I wasn’t too worried because my brother was home helping me keep an eye on him. But honestly, I should have been there for him. I’m the only one who could ever get Dad in the car to go to a doctor check up. Dad wasn’t feeling good. I told him he needed to go to the ER now but he wanted to wait for my mom to come home. So I called my mom and told her she needed to go home and take Dad to the ER. I should have left and drove home but I was half a day away. I should have flown back home. I don’t think I could have saved him but I want to think I could have though I feel like it would be the same outcome. There are so many worse case scenarios so I should be grateful I was able to be with him until his last breathe.
Dad ended up having a stroke. Mom told the doctors he was having a stroke but they didn’t believe her. How is that possible? It doesn’t make any sense to me. Not until he transferred to Neurology ICU was it discovered that he did indeed have a stroke. They actually uncovered that Dad had many strokes. It makes sense why he started forgetting things. Supposedly discovering neurological strokes is difficult to find. He would faint without reason. The first time I saw him faint it was like someone slow-mo’ed my vision and I couldn’t get up and run to him fast enough to catch him. I should have had his head examined. I never thought about it. I’m lucky Dad stuck around as long as he was able with all those strokes he had. People with diabetes… strokes are a big issue along with heart attacks.
I had a feeling this was it because I wasn’t there. My worse fears actually coming true. Once I had confirmation that things were not going as routine with previous ER visits with Dad, I drove back home as fast as I could. I think I cried most of the way home. When I got to the hospital, he was hooked up with all these things all over his body. He was ventilated. He had these electrodes all over his head. I quickly went to him and held his hand. I told him I was there and that I was sorry it took so long. He squeezed my hand. It was the only way he could communicate now. I fought the tears hard. He didn’t want me to worry. He didn’t want me to cry. He’d been in the ER before having a big accident after Hurricane Ike. He told me not to cry then and not to worry. No matter what, he said he was fine. He was fine with whatever came. “When it’s time, you have to go” he would always say. Who knew his last words to me would be that he doesn’t feel good.
Dude…. FUUUUUUUUUCK!!! That fucking sucks so bad. SO FUCKING BAD. FUCK!
A few days later, we were informed of his future. 10 days and he was done. I stayed with him as much as I could. That last day came so fast and yet so slow. Mom, my sister and I were all there when he took his last breathe. It was heartbreaking but relieving. I didn’t want him to suffer anymore. I’d take the burden if he ever let me. But, he’d never let me. I can hear him already, “go home and take care of your kids. Don’t worry about me. Nothing you can do it.” He’d say it like that, just like that. C’est la vie.
It will be a year now since Dad passed. He’d say, don’t worry about him. He’s fine. I miss him so much, obviously. Grief… there is no clear cut plan to over come it. You kind of just maneuver it as best you can, caving into moments or triggers you can’t control. I guess those long drives have become so therapeutic that I don’t even think about how long they are.
Dad was always happy to see me. If he didn’t hear from me or didn’t see me come over enough, he would call me and check to see if everything was good. Eventually when the kids showed up, he would say I needed to bring the kids over. I miss his goofy hellos. I miss seeing him play with the kids and miss the kids being with him. If ever you can be that one person in someone’s life that is ALWAYS happy to see you, be that person. There is never enough people like this and they aren’t valued enough.
When Dad passed, I just wanted to be where he was, everywhere he had been, engulf myself with anything connected to him. I didn’t want to forget him. He always smelled like car grease, gasoline, or fresh cut grass. I wanted to trap all my memories of him in one place and just run through it somewhat fast forward mode but on replay. Now, it’s that that time of year that will forever be those unavoidable days where I internally test myself to see if I still remember him, every moment of him. I want to remember everything forever. Right now, I want to say I remember every moment of his last days, but truthfully, I don’t. I remember his last day was a cold day.
I pray Dad is at peace and happy just watching over us. I miss him dearly. My forever happy smiley face. My goofy hello guy. My carefree dude. I hope I can be what you were to me, to my kids. Peace be with you, Ba Ba. Love you a looot a lot a lot!
Family History Unknown 