A dozen years ago

[fbhjr]

Twelve years ago today my father died.

Most of him died the day before.  He had been coming out of a Barnes and
Noble bookstore and collapsed in the parking lot.  They brought him to the
closest hospital where they started a CAT scan of him.  Once they saw the
size of the hemorrhage in his brain they didn’t even finish the scan, they
just pumped him full of pain killers and waited.
It took him another day before he died.  I remained convinced he kept going
that one more day so that he did not die on the 100th anniversary of his
mother in law’s birth.

It had been 10 years since the phone call with my sister where he had
disappointed me so.
It had been 4 years since he had called me at work to tell me he thought I
was an embarrassment to the family.
It had been 2 months since I had snuck into his hospital room, while he was
in for another problem, at the request of his sister and he had told me he
was sorry and I was a good son.

I like to pretend that he was telling the truth on the last one.  But, I
can’t forget what a coward he was and his willingness to say what other’s
wanted.  So, he might have been telling the truth or he might have been
telling me what I wanted to hear.  And, I can’t deny I wanted to hear it.

While he was alive there was this, completely irrational, hope that he
would do something to fix the mess he had caused.  That he’d do or say
something that would make it all right.
Or that he would at least try.

But, that whisper in the bed two months before he died was all I got.  And,
it was more than Anne got.

The night before he died my wife talked me into going to see him.  She was
right, I was glad I did.  The doctor hemmed and hawed about his condition
and what would happen.  Once the doctor left the nurse turned to me and
said “I’m sorry, but he’s brain dead and will probably die tonight.”  That
was far better for me to hear than the “you never can tell when dealing
with the brain” the doctor gave me.

Once she left I did have a long talk with him.  There is an excellent
chance there was none of him left to hear it.  But, I at least got to say
it to his face even if he didn’t hear.
I told him I forgave him.  That it was OK.  That he didn’t have to hang on
any more.
I’m glad I said it.

Comments

[mamculuna.livejournal.com]

It sounds like it was good to say what you said, and I'm glad you had a chance.