Wednesday, May 2, 2012

May 2, 2005

Seven years ago today, a Monday, I was up and getting ready for work. It was early and the phone rang. It was my mom calling to say she couldn't wake my dad up. She had called the hospice nurse who was on her way to check his vitals. I told my mom that I was going to work and to please call me once the nurse got there and got him up.

I then called my younger sister to tell her mom had called. She was on her way to work, or so I thought, but instead she was at the gas station filling up her car. She said mom had called her too. I said I was going to work and asked mom to call me once the nurse arrived, and my sister said, "what the hell's wrong with you? He's gone. I'm putting gas in the car and I'll pick you up and we'll go to their house." I then called my older sister, as by then my denial was replaced by reality.

Talk about denial. That is one of the stages of death that we go through and I was in it at the moment big time. The day before, my sisters and I went to visit my dad and to meet with the hospice worker. He was ready for hospice at that point. We had a fun visit and he had a nice final day. He got to spend it with his wife and his kids and he got to see pictures from his grandson's wedding that happened on the Saturday before our visit. He wanted to go to the wedding, but wasn't up to it health wise.

This past Sunday, my mom and I were running errands and as we sat at a red light, I had this thought pop into my head, "I wonder what dad is doing right now." It was out of the blue and strange. The thought was kind of like he was still here but just somewhere else. I guess he was just stopping by to let me know he's around.

No comments:

Post a Comment