Yesterday the world stopped. It feels that my life is slowing slowing slowing down. My frantic urban San Francisco life has been replaced by the sub urban Hawaii life of caring for my dad and mom in my dad’s final days. This pace is almost more than I can bear. I can’t seem to allow myself to savor these moments. And instead am fighting tooth and nail in a battle I can’t win.
When I woke up yesterday (Friday) morning, something felt different. I came into my parents home at about 8:30a and the house was still. My dad wasn’t at the kitchen table drinking his morning mc Donald’s coffee. His normal morning ritual is to wake up about 5a, drive to mc Donald’s get coffee Togo and bring it home to sip while reading the paper.
I went upstairs and my mom was sleeping, that’s normal, she sleeps in her room with the hospital bed till 10 or so if she doesn’t have to be up. But at 8:30 my dad still asleep in his room is out of the ordinary. I heard his snores so I decided to let him rest.
9:30a, I go upstairs again, squeeze my dads toes to see if he’d rustle. Nothing. Ok. Let him rest, he must be tired.
10:30a, I head up again. Try to give him a little shake to wake him up. Nothing. I say. Wake up dad , it’s 10:30 wake up! Still nothing. I wake up my mom and we head back to my dad. He just won’t wake up. We call hospice and nurse says to call family, this may be his time.
ALREADY!? He was just up the day before, albeit in a lot of pain.
Time stands still and I want to march forward.
If I don’t stand still, none of this is happening. If I keep moving, if I keep a smile on my face as family, friends, and hospice workers arrive, none of this is happening.
All these people in and out of the house. I still feel so alone in my grief. None of this is happening. I want it to hurry. I want my suffering and impatience to end. But I’m not ready for this to be the end.
I’m not ready to say goodbye. Today, I don’t tell my dad that I love him. I don’t tell him to let go. I don’t tell him thank you for all he’s provided for me. I don’t tell him things are ok. I’m not ready.