Saturday:
I had scheduled a massage in town with my massage dude Aaron at 3 PM. Given all of the stress I had been under lately with my Dad's illness, I needed to relax. Truthfully, my massage with Aaron made me realize that I was still a lot more stressed than I had been the week before. I'm not typically an every week massage sort of guy, but given the circumstances I felt I needed to treat myself. Aaron had found a lot of knots in my back that didn't seem they were there the week before.
On Thursday, I had the "final" conversation with my Dad. The one where you tell him to let go. My Dad hadn't been eating and he stopped talking. At this point he had even stopped taking his meds.
It was hard watching him waste away.
Even after the massage, I wasn't relaxed. So I decided to head to the Korean Spa to relax some more and take a dip in the jacuzzi, steam a bit and just decompress. I called my friend Nicole on the way and we got involved in this conversation about my conversation with my Dad. I sat in my car in the parking lot at the spa and chatted with Nicole. Then I got an incoming call from my Mom. I had to take it. I just figured it was more updates about my Dad's state or some questions about what to do.
I put Nicole on hold. My Mom told me that my Father had been bleeding. I didn't know what this meant. I thought that maybe his bed sores had been irritated again, like the time a couple of weeks ago where I found dried blood all over his back because of his bed sores. It sounded serious, but with my Mom, it seemed like it could have either been important or not important at all. She said that our neighbor Elyse was coming over. Elyse's a retired nurse. I clicked back to Nicole, explained the situation and explained that I would call her back.
I called my Mom back and by this point we had established that blood was coming from his rectum. I headed home to find out what Elyse and the hospice nurse were going to say.
My Dad was hemmoraging pretty bad. He had lost a lot of blood. Elyse and the nurse cleaned him up. The nurse was huddled in a corner of the kitchen with my Mom. I wanted to hear what they were saying so I approached them.
"I don't think he's going to last the night."
WHAT? The moment could finally be here. We were told to keep him comfortable/hopped up on morphine. The nurse left. Elyse stuck around. I called my Godmother, who's my Mom's best friend. She showed up twenty minutes later and barged in saying that she knows I don't like prayers, but she was going to do the rosary anyway. It's not that I don't like prayers. My Father didn't like prayers. He didn't like anything that felt hypocritical.
At that moment, I forgot that I had a rosary I had blessed from the Vatican when I went to Rome years earlier. It was meant for my Godmother and everytime I saw her I forgot to give it to her. So armed with a new Pope-approved rosary, my Godmother went and said the rosary over my Dad. I felt like it would give her comfort and it would send a few more good thoughts my Dad's way.
Outside, my Mom and Elyse were talking about last rites. I walked out there and told them that I felt my Dad would not have wanted them. I wanted to respect his wishes even in his final hours.
The rest of the night went smoothly. We got some Chinese take out. We ate. We made my Mom eat and then my Godmother decided to spend the night be to be with my Dad. They decided to go in again and pray.
From the living room, I heard certain words come from the bedroom. My Godmother had grabbed her prayer book and went back in. I heard things like:
"Lord, save his soul from damnation."
I heard things about "hell" and "salvation." I also heard "heaven" and "before you take him." Those sounded a lot like last rites. I was not happy, but I wasn't about to go in there and create more stress in my Father's room. So I waited until they came out.
When they came out, my Godmother said that her and my Mom would be taking turns sleeping and praying over him. My Mother even said that I could go in and say some prayers. I knew that this brought them comfort, but we had had enough! My Mom was going to sleep first and my Godmother was going to pray. I followed my Mom into her room and explained to her that we were done with the prayers. It wasn't what he was about and I didn't like that some very last rites-ish things were being said. She told me I had to tell my Godmother what I told her.
So I went outside and explained to my Godmother that this wasn't in the spirit of the values my Father embodied. It felt hypocritical. I felt like we weren't talking to him. I invited her to stay and chat with him. About good times. About her memories of him. Even if she wanted to invoke the name of God, that was fine. But she had to speak from her heart and not from "prayers for the dying." She listened and then she said:
"Aren't you worried about his soul?"
This was exactly why I was having this conversation. I told her I didn't think he'd go to hell because he didn't believe in it and I didn't believe in it. And I didn't like the implication that I wouldn't be worried about my Father's soul. I told her his soul was fine because he had lived a life of honesty and integrity.
Then she decided that she had heard enough. I had made my point. And then she decided to leave. Not take turns the whole night talking to him. But since she couldn't pray over him, she decided to leave. That's exactly why I had the conversation because I wanted all hypocrisy to leave the building. She felt insulted and took her Jesus with her. That's fine because there was plenty of God in there with my Dad. There was plenty of spirit.
Sunday:
My Dad didn't die overnight. But I decided to cancel my therapy appointment at 1 PM. We sat there all day. By 5:30 PM I was exhausted and I decided to go for a drive. I went over to my best friend's Mom's house who lives in town. She had cocktails and cigarettes for me. We talked a lot about her memories of my Dad. She applauded me for standing up to and telling off my Godmother. It was exactly what I needed. I just needed some understanding and some love.
That night I came home and I sat with my Dad. I took him through a bit of a life review. Remember how people say that before you die your life flashes before your eyes? Well, I wanted to take a nice leisurely stroll. So I asked him to remember the day he got married, a great meal, what it was like growing up in Hawaii. Things like that. I asked him to think about those things. It was our second last goodbye. But it was good to just sit there with him and put my hand on his and talk. I'm glad that I have those memories with him.
By the way, my Godmother didn't come by on Sunday. Maybe she was tired or not feeling well. Or she was mad. Not sure which.
Monday:
He was still with us. I went into town to go to the Korean Spa because I needed a break. I relaxed and left by 1:30 so my Mom could make it back for her therapy appointment, which I insisted she keep.
She went to therapy and I rested a bit. We were giving him morphine every two hours, per the nurse's instructions. At 3:30, Elyse and I moved him a bit. My Mom came home at 4:30. She noticed that he was on his back. We decided that we would move him to his side again when we gave him morphine at 5:30. Mom noticed he wasn't breathing. Elyse came by and confirmed it. He had passed.
Just like that. Quietly. "He's gone."
Here's where the details are sporadic. The first call was to my brother. I told him what happened. My Mom got on the phone with him and then started shaking. It hit. She had to go sit down. I consoled her and then Elyse took her into his room. I started making calls to everyone. We had the arrangements set up. By this time, my Godmother had arrived and sat with Mom.
Then I started calling relatives. I was dumb. I had made a list the other day so I wouldn't forget anyone. I went down my list and started calling. Explaining that there would be no service, per his request. Explaining that he went peacefully and at home at "around 4pm." I checked people off my list so I would remember who I had called. It all seemed to go like clockwork, even taking breaks every so often.
The case worker at the hospice came to declare him dead.
The people from the Neptune Society came to get him. They looked like a couple of 12 year olds in their Dad's suits. They were awkward and a bit too by the book. No warmth there. To them,it's just a job I imagine.
Then I went and got some food for us. By this time it was 9 PM and I don't know where the time had gone. I had made it through half my list. Family and close friends. Tuesday I would tackle more friends.
I'm not sure how I slept that night. I just closed my eyes. But I didn't get any good sleep. I just kept going and have been going since. I can't believe it's Thursday night, almost Friday. But it also seems like time has gone by SO slowly as well. Maybe because I'm hyper aware of everything going on. I'm very present in this moment. Not sure how I'm doing that. I'm just going...much like what I'm doing now: typing. I just keep hitting proverbial keys and I watch the time march forward like this happens every day.
And it does happen every day. Just not to me. Thank God.
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