December 26, 2009

Saying Goodbye

Dad had two choices on Tuesday night.  1. be transferred to a convalescent center and spend the rest of his life there hooked up to machines, or 2. come home and rest and be with family during his last days.  He chose #2 and now he's home.  Home with mom.  Home with our family.  Home where he belongs. 

This is one of the hardest things I've ever done.  I'm not good with goodbyes.  Not ever.  I cry too much.  My voice gets all choked up and I mumble.  I can barely even squeak out words, yet alone speak words.  It's hard, this saying goodbye.  Especially to my dad.

He's lying in his hospital bed next to me and he's barely aware of the fact that I'm even here.  I arrived in Southern California 1pm today and he recognized me and sang me a song about how much he loved me.  I laughed, and then I cried.  Now he's barely cognizant that I'm here.   His breathing is deep and labored but he looks peaceful and I'm grateful for that.

I'll try to say goodbye, yet I know I will fail miserably. But I will try again and again and again until I get it right.  For now I will hold his hand and  rub his feet and stroke his face and play with his hair and talk to him about our memories together.

Even though I miss him already, I take comfort in knowing that I will be reunited with him again after this life and that he will be there to greet me and our family and my mom.  What joy that brings to my heart!

Goodbye dad.  I love you.