MY DAD WAS A HARD, SELF MADE MAN. MY DAD LOVED HORSES, DOGS, WHISKEY, SMALL CHILDREN, HIS CHILDREN, HIS GRANDCHILDREN, HIS BROTHERS AND SISTERS AND HIS MOTHER, AND I THINK, MY MOTHER. NOT NECESSARILY IN THAT ORDER, BUT I KNOW THAT HE LOVED THESE THINGS. HE ENJOYED SUCCESS IN MOST AREAS OF HIS LIFE, BUT IT SEEMED THERE WAS ALWAYS SOME SORT OF DEMON ON HIS TAIL. MY DAD FEARED FAILURE, POVERTY, AGING AND DEATH. HE MET HIS ILLNESS HEAD ON WITH DETERMINATION AND A FIGHTING SPIRIT. IT ALSO MADE HIM BITTER IN THE END AS HE SLOWLY CAME TO THE REALIZATION THAT HIS OLD ENEMY, CANCER, WOULD WIN THE WAR.
THE LAST THREE YEARS OF HIS LIFE HE SEEMED ANGRY WITH THOSE OF US WHO LOVED HIM BEST. HE COULD EVEN BE DESCRIBED AS JUNKYARD DOG MEAN TO US THE LAST SIX MONTHS OF HIS LIFE. MY MOTHER CRIED EVERY MORNING STRAIGHT FOR SIX MONTHS RUNNING. MAYBE LONGER. I WAS HERE TO SEE THE LAST SIX MONTHS OF IT. MOST DAYS I HAD NO DESIRE TO VISIT THEIR HOME AT THAT TIME. I KNEW THAT MOM WAS SITTING THERE CRYING, THOUGH, SO I WENT IN TO SEE HER OFTEN. DAD AND I WERE AT ODDS. IT WAS A DIFFICULT TIME IN MY LIFE, AND FELT ABANDONED BY THE MAN WHO HAD ALWAYS LISTENED BEFORE. I SELFISHLY DIDN’T REALIZE THAT IT WASN’T JUST I WHO WAS BATTLING A DEMON. MY DEMON WAS CALLED DEPRESSION, BUT MY DAD WAS FIGHTING THAT DEMON KNOWN AS DEATH. I’D LIKE TO BELIEVE THAT I WENT IN TO TOWN TO COMFORT MOM (WHEN I WENT) BUT IF I AM HONEST I WILL HAVE TO ADMIT THAT I WAS ALSO SEEKING SOME COMFORT FOR MYSELF. AS IT TURNED OUT, I DON’T THINK THERE WAS ANY COMFORT TO BE HAD AT THAT TIME. WE ALL JUST FINALLY BECAME ACCUSTOMED TO THE WAY THINGS WERE. TIME, THEY SAY, IS A GREAT HEALER, AFTER ALL. I HAD HOPED UP UNTIL THE END OF DADS LIFE THAT THERE WOULD COME A MOMENT IN TIME WHEN I WOULD LOOK AT HIM AND WE WOULD MAKE UP, IT SEEMED LIKE WE HAD BEEN MAD AT EACH OTHER FOR SO LONG. I SO WANTED TO TELL HIM I LOVED HIM, BUT I WAS AFRAID THAT DAD WOULD KNOW THEN THAT I THOUGHT HE WAS REALLY DYING. NOT THAT I HADN’T TOLD DAD FREELY MANY TIMES IN MY LIFE THAT I LOVED HIM. THOSE WORDS JUST SEEMED OUT OF PLACE AND SERIOUSLY LACKING IN THE END. I WISH NOW THAT I WOULD HAVE SWALLOWED MY FEAR AND SHOUTED” I LOVE YOU” TO MY DAD WHILE HE WAS STILL THERE TO HEAR AND UNDERSTAND IT. I GUESS THAT IT WOULDN’T HAVE MADE ANY DIFFERENCE. I KNOW THAT DAD KNEW HOW I FELT ABOUT HIM, JUST AS I KNOW THAT HE LOVED ME. I DO WISH THAT WE COULD HAVE LIKED EACH OTHER BETTER, THOUGH. “SUNDAY MORNING COMING DOWN” WAS ONE OF MY DAD’S FAVORITE SONGS. I REALLY LIKE IT, TOO. IF I AM VERY STILL I CAN STILL HEAR IN MY MIND MY DAD SINGING OR WHISTLING THAT, AND OTHER FAMILIAR TUNES. HE HAD A VERY NICE SINGING VOICE, AND HEAVEN KNOWS I WOULD GIVE A LOT TO ABLE TO WHISTLE LIKE HE COULD. NOTHING EXTRAORDINARY, BUT LIKE DAD, TO BE ABLE TO WHISTLE ENOUGH TO CARRY A TUNE. MY DAD LIKED COUNTRY MUSIC, AND I SHARED THAT LIKE . IN MY BOOK THERE IS NOTHING LIKE A SAD COUNTRY SONG TO SET THE WHOLE WORLD STRAIGHT. MY DAD WAS DIAGNOSED WITH ACUTE LEUKEMIA ON OCTOBER 3RD 1997. HE HADN’T FELT WELL FOR A LONG WHILE, AND HE SEEMED TO WANT TO TAKE IT OUT ON THE WHOLE WORLD. FINALLY HE GAVE IN TO THE NEED TO FIND OUT EXACTLY WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HIM. HE TOLD MY MOTHER TO MAKE THE APPOINTMENT FOR HIM. HE RECKONED THAT IF HE WAS AN OLD CAR HE WOULD EITHER JUNK HIMSELF OR GET HIMSELF FIXED, AND IT WAS TIME TO FIND WHAT WHICH HAD TO BE DONE. MOTHER SAID WHEN THEY LEFT THE HOUSE THAT MORNING THAT DAD TOLD HER NOT TO BRING HIM HOME AGAIN UNTIL HE WAS WELL. AS IT TURNED OUT, HE WOULD NEVER TO COME HOME AGAIN. THE DOCTORS TOLD MY DAD THAT HE HAD THAT DREAD DISEASE WHILE HE LAID ALONE IN MCKENNON HOSPITAL. IT WAS LATE IN THE AFTERNOON WHEN MOTHER HAD LEFT FOR HOME, THINKING THAT NO DOCTOR WOULD BE COMING BACK THAT LATE IN THE DAY. SHE WAS WRONG. DAD WAS DEVASTATED, AND MOTHER TOOK THE CALL FROM HIM WHILE I WAS THERE, SHORTLY AFTER WALKING THROUGH THE DOOR. I WISH THEY HADN’T TOLD DAD WHILE HE WAS SO VERY ALONE. OVER THE PHONE MOTHER BRAVELY CITED CASES OF PEOPLE SURVIVING LEUKEMIA FOR YEARS. SHE NAMED NAMES AND COUNTED THE YEARS. BUT DAD KNEW, AND SO DID MOTHER. WHEN SHE HUNG UP THE PHONE SHE CRIED THE TEARS AND SUFFERED THE GRIEF OF A SOON TO BE WIDOWED WOMAN. SHE TOLD ME IN ANGUISH AND SORROW THAT IT WAS ALL OVER FOR MY DAD. SHE PACKED A SUITCASE AND WENT BACK TO THE HOSPITAL TO BE WITH DAD. MY HEART REJECTED THAT NEWS, AND HUNG ON TO THE HOPE THAT THIS WAS JUST A VERY BAD DREAM. “UNREAL” IS THE WORD I WOULD USE TO DESCRIBE THE FOLLOWING WEEKS. DAD PASSED AWAY ON OCTOBER 26TH 1997 AT ABOUT 6AM. IT WAS A DRAWN-OUT AND EXHAUSTING VIGIL OF HOPES AND LOST HOPES. DAD WAS MEDICATED AND CONFUSED MOST OF THE TIME. IT WAS BOTH DISTRESSING AND INTENSE TO BE IN DAD’S PRESENCE. HE FEARED HE WAS DYING, AND WE WERE ALL AFRAID TO ADMIT IT TO OURSELVES AND TO HIM. THE DOCTORS WERE THERE WITH THEIR THEORIES AND FALSE HOPES. THEY PUMPED HIM FULL OF THE POISON THAT WAS SUPPOSE TO KILL THE DISEASE, BUT ONLY MANAGED TO MAKE HIM ILL AND DESTROY HIS KIDNEYS. THEY PUMPED HIM FULL OF MORPHINE TO EASE HIS BREATHING AND HIS PAIN, BUT THAT ALSO TOOK HIS REASON AND MIND IN SMALL AND THEN IN A MUCH LARGER DEGREE. WHEN MOTHER CALLED ME, SHE WAS CRYING ON THE 23RD OF OCTOBER. I CALLED WORK TO TELL THEM I WOULD NOT BE BACK UNTIL THIS THING WAS DONE. DAD HAD BECOME EVEN MORE ABUSIVE THAN USUAL TOWARDS HER. HE WOULD NOT LISTEN TO REASON ANYMORE AND FOUGHT ALL HER EFFORTS TO TALK TO HIM AND TO COMFORT HIM. I BELIEVE IN HIS CONFUSED MIND THAT HE THOUGHT SHE HAD HIM COMMITTED TO THIS PLACE HE WAS IN. AS WEAK AS HE WAS IT TOOK TWO NURSES TO HOLD HIM DOWN. THEY BEGAN TO PUMP HIM FULL OF MORE DRUGS IN AN EFFORT TO COMBAT HIS “HOSPITAL PSYCHOSIS”. BY THE TIME I ARRIVED AT THE HOSPITAL MY DAD WAS WEAK AND BARELY CONSCIENCE, AND UNAWARE OF MY PRESENCE. HE WAS REACHING AND PICKING AT SOMETHING THAT, IN HIS MIND, WAS HOVERING SLIGHTLY ABOVE HIM. I ALLOWED HIM TO GRAB MY HAND SEVERAL TIMES, AND HE WOULD TRY WITH ALL OF HIS MIGHT TO RAISE HIMSELF FROM HIS BED. MOTHER LEFT FOR A MUCH NEEDED NIGHT IN HER OWN BED THAT AFTERNOON. SHE HAD DONE ALL SHE COULD AND WAS PHYSICALLY AND MENTALLY EXHAUSTED FROM THE BATTLE WITH MY DAD. I STAYED. THE NURSES TURNED OFF HIS TV AND THE LIGHTS ABOVE HIS BED AND TOLD ME HE HAD TO REST. MY MIND STRUGGLED WITH THE TV AND LIGHTS BEING OFF. AS LONG AS I COULD REMEMBER MY DAD ONLY TRULY SLEPT WITH THE LIGHTS AND THE TV ON. I LET IT BE, THOUGH. I DON’T REMEMBER WHEN EXACTLY, BUT SOMETIME IN THE LATE AFTERNOON THAT DAY MY DAD BEGAN CALLING FOR “MAMA”. HE CALLED TENTATIVELY AT FIRST, BUT AS TIME WENT ON HIS CALLS BECAME MORE URGENT, AS IF HE WERE LOST, OR HIS “MAMA” WAS SOMEWHERE JUST OUT OF HIS REACH. HIS CALL BECAME A PLEA, MORE URGENT AND INSISTENT AS TIME WENT ON, AND IT SEEMED TO GO ON FOREVER. HE WAS UNAWARE THAT I WAS THERE, AND I FINALLY RETREATED TO THE PULLOUT LOVESEAT IN THE ROOM AND READIED MYSELF FOR BED. NO TV, NO BOOKS, NO LIGHTS. JUST MY DAD, ME, AND I BELIEVE MY GRANDMA CAMERON, MY DAD’S “MAMA”. I DON’T KNOW IF I ACTUALLY SAID THE WORDS ALOUD, OR IN MY MIND, BUT I FINALLY GAVE IN AND ASKED MY GRANDMOTHER TO PLEASE COME AND TAKE HIM, OR COMFORT HIM, BUT PLEASE DO SOMETHING, HE WAS SO FRIGHTENED.I COULDN’T TAKE HIS PLEADING ANY LONGER. HIS VOICE HAD BECOME HOARSE FROM CALLING FOR HER, FINALLY AFTER THE SUN HAD LONG GONE DOWN, MY DAD FOUND THE RELIEF HE SOUGHT AND HIS VOICE WAS STILLED. ..FOREVER…. HE NEVER REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS. MOM RETURNED THE NEXT DAY. DAD HAD NOT MOVED A MUSCLE ALL NIGHT. I TOLD HER THAT I THOUGHT HE COULDN’T WAKE UP. MOTHER WENT TO HIM AND CALLED HIM, AND I WAS SURPRISED TO SEE HIM FEEBLY LIFT AN EYEBROW, AS IF HE WAS TRYING TO OPEN HIS EYES TO SEE HER. HIS TRYING TO RESPOND TO MY MOTHER WAS HIS LAST WILLFUL ATTEMPT ON THIS EARTH. HE SLIPPED INTO A DEEP SLEEP, OR COMA, IF YOU WILL. THE TRUE DEATHBED VIGIL HAD BEGUN. THE HOURS CREPT BY. MY BROTHERS HAD LEFT EARLIER IN THE WEEK, NOT KNOWING WHAT TO DO. THEY HAD TO GET ON THE ROAD AND TO PROVIDE FOR THEIR FAMILIES AND MAKE THOSE TRUCK PAYMENTS. THERE WASN’T A THING THEY COULD DO FOR DAD. VAL AND DENISE MADE REGULAR APPEARANCES, AND DENISE CAME DOWN FOR THAT LAST WEEKEND AFTER DAD WENT INTO A COMA. DENISE WAS THERE THE NIGHT OF THE 25TH. MOTHER AND I SLEPT ON THE PULLOUT LOVESEAT, AND DENISE SLEPT ON THE COUCH IN THE VISITORS LOUNGE. MOM AND I WOKE AT 4 AM THE MORNING OF THE 26TH. WE LAY THERE AND TALKED QUIETLY FOR AWHILE. MOTHER HAD MADE THE MAJOR DECISION IN THE NIGHT TO HAVE THE DOCTORS PULL DAD OFF THE ANTIBIOTICS AND LET NATURE TAKE ITS INEVITABLE COURSE. I AGREED WITH HER. IT WAS THE RIGHT THING TO DO. DAD WOULD NOT WANT THIS PROLONGED IN ANY WAY. THE CAFETERIA OPENED AT 5 AM, SO MOM AND I AROSE AND GOT READY TO GO DOWN FOR BREAKFAST AND A SMOKE. WE STOPPED AND ASKED DENISE IF SHE’D LIKE TO JOIN US FOR BREAKFAST, BUT SHE DECLINED. WE TOLD HER THAT SHE COULD HAVE THE NOW VACANT BED. I COULDN’T TELL YOU WHAT I ATE FOR BREAKFAST THAT MORNING. MOTHER AND I VISITED THE WIND TUNNEL AND HAD A CIGARETTE BEFORE GOING BACK UP TO THE ROOM. MOTHER WENT STRAIGHT UP, BUT I HAD TO STOP AT THE RESTROOM BEFORE FOLLOWING HER BACK UP. ONE OF THE HOSPICE NURSES MET ME AT THE ELEVATOR AS I WAS STEPPING OFF TO TELL ME TO HURRY, THAT DAD’S RACE WAS NEARLY RUN. MY LEGS REFUSED TO SUPPORT ME AFTER A COUPLE OF STEPS, AND I FELL TO THE FLOOR, WITH THE SUNDAY MORNING PAPER SPRAWLED OUT IN FRONT OF ME, I REGAINED MY COMPOSURE AND GATHERED THE PAPER. I COMFORTED THE VERY DISTRESSED NURSE, AND REASSURED HER THAT I WAS FINE. I TOOK A DEEP BREATH AND WILLED MYSELF TO SEE THIS THING THROUGH. WHEN WE REACHED MY DADS ROOM I WAS MET BY THE SIGHT OF DENISE ON DAD’S LEFT, AND MOTHER ON DAD’S RIGHT. I MOVED TO THE END OF THE BED, AND THEN, I THINK, MOTHER BROUGHT ME TO THE RIGHT HEAD OF THE BED. I LIGHTLY LAID MY HAND ON MY DAD’S SHOULDER AND WAS AT A LOSS TO KNOW WHAT TO PRAY FOR. ALL I COULD DO WAS TO WATCH HIM TAKE IS LAST FEW SHORT BREATHES. I HEARD MY MOTHER SAY SOFTLY TO DAD THAT IT WAS ALL RIGHT, THAT DENISE AND CAROL WERE HERE, AND THAT HE COULD GO. MY MIND WAS NUMB, AND THEN IT WAS OVER. DENISE TRIED AGAIN TO CALL VALERIE. HER PHONE WAS OFF THE HOOK; SO SHE LEFT TO GO GET HER. I REMEMBER WALKING BACK OVER TO DAD. AND LEANING OVER AND TELLING HIM NOT TO BE STUBBORN NOW. IF THERE WAS A LIGHT THERE I WANTED HIM TO GO TO IT. I WATCHED HIS COLOR SLOWLY FADE TO GRAY. I ASKED THE HOSPICE NURSES TO PLEASE STRAIGHTEN MY DAD UP AND THEY KINDLY PULLED THE CURTAIN AND RETURNED MY DAD’S DIGNITY. WHEN THEY OPENED THE CURTAIN AGAIN MY DAD WAS LAID OUT. NO TUBES, NO BAGS, EYES CLOSED AND MOUTH SLIGHTLY PARTED. HE WAS AT PEACE. MY ONLY CONTACT WITH HIM NOW IS IN MY DREAMS, WHERE HE IS A MOST WELCOME VISITOR. THE TIME CAME TO GATHER UP OUR FEW BELONGINGS FROM OUR HOME AWAY FROM HOME FOR THE PREVIOUS THREE WEEKS. MY MOTHER HAD CALLED HER SISTER BEV, AND RECEIVED THE COMFORT THAT ONLY BEV COULD GIVE HER. VALERIE HAD ARRIVED WITH MIKE TO SILENTLY WITNESS THAT IT WAS THE END. THE FUNERAL DIRECTOR WAS CONTACTED, AND WE DECIDED NOT TO WAIT FOR HIM. MY MOTHER HAD DEALT WITH MIKE SCHROCH MANY TIMES AND ASSURED US THAT HE WOULD SHOW MY DAD HIS DUE RESPECT IN TRANSPORTING HIM. ON THE WAY OUT THE DOOR I STOPPED AND SAID GOOD-BYE TO DAD AND TOUCHED HIS HAND FOR THE LAST TIME. AS WE WALKED OUT OF HOSPICE THAT MORNING, PAST THE NURSES STATION AND THE VISITING ROOM, WE WERE SILENT AND THOUGHTFUL. IT WAS A HARD THING TO LEAVE MY DAD BEHIND. WE WALKED OUT ON TO THE 3RD FLOOR SKYWALK, WITH ITS LARGE GLASS WINDOWS. WE WERE GREETED BY A RADIANT FALL SUNRISE. WE STOPPED AND LOOKED AND COMMENTED ON ITS BEAUTY. IT WAS SUNDAY, THE 26TH OF OCTOBER 1997. AND SURELY THIS WAS WHAT KRIS KRISTOFERSON MEANT WHEN HE WROTE “ON A SUNDAY MORNING SIDEWALK, I’M WISHING LORD THAT I WAS STONE, BECAUSE THERE’S SOMETHING IN A SUNDAY, THAT MAKES A BODY FEEL ALONE. THERE AINT NOTHING SHORT OF DYING, HALF AS LONESOME AS THE SOUND, OF A SLEEPING CITY SIDEWALK AND SUNDAY MORNING COMING DOWN”. RIVISED 06-07-01
|
