I suppose I shouldn’t post stuff like this but…whatever. I loaded mom into the Dawgmobile and went to see Pop today. There wasn’t much to see. He sleeps a lot now. He can’t talk much. Mom and I sat and chatted while Pop slept. I held his hand, Mom fussed and puttered over him the way women do. At one point when mom and I were chatting I noticed Pop was wide awake, staring right at me with that same blue eyed stare that i inherited from him. “Nice a ya to join us,” I said snidely. Dad smirked rudely and then fell back fast asleep. He recognized me. I could see it in that shit eating smirk. Thank you, God.
Mom gave me shit when I hauled out the cell and took a pic…”I don’t want to remember your dad like this,” she said, on the verge of tears. But… I don’t want to forget him. I am not a picture taker ordinarily; but… I dunno. This may be the only pic I ever take of Pop at this point in our lives. It’s better than nothing…
Isn’t it?
Maybe I’m weird.
I should have told dad I loved him when I left… but the men in my family don’t talk like that. I found it difficult to think, it was bedlam at the home. These are people at the end of their lives, they sing and shout and hoot and gibber and it was incredibly noisy. After awhile we left.
When I got out I just gulped in a deep breath of spring air. You can feel the spectre of death in there. You can see it in the eyes of some of the patients. It warps your soul.
As we drove out, I stopped at an intersection to let some high school girls cross in front and it just re-oriented my spirit. They were young and laughing and going about life as youngsters do, and it reminded me that maybe I need to get my shit together and do the same.
I don’t understand the world or my place in it. Mom has been remarkably well mannered throughout this. Perhaps she’s gained a new perspective on life too?
I’m gonna go see him again next week and say it. I’m gonna tell him that I love him. I don’t care if he can’t say anything back… but it has to be said.
Tis a VERY tough time to go through, indeed Sir Filthy. I wish y'all a very sincere peacefulness in some way, especially at this point of their lives. I understand about men folk not saying certain things, too. I changed that when Junior was hatched. From then on, it's no longer shied away from. Not for my Grandson, or my 2 G-Grandsons. If it matters, I'd personally do the same (I did with mine as well) from you to your Dad.
ReplyDeleteAnd your right - it really doesn't matter if he can say anything in return. It really is something that needs to be said. I truly wish I'd said it sooner to mine.
On a brighter note, hope yer critter is coming along well. A topic for another day, it certainly is!
Y'all take care,
Mike in FLA.
Bleak.
ReplyDeleteIt is easy to be an edgy atheist in our twenties and thirties. The crowd applauds.
But when you are being inexorably being pushed ever closer to the abyss and you can hear the howling and gibbering welling up from the void...it strains the bowels (and stains the briefs). There is no crowd left to applaud.
It has been suggested that God likes it when we are kind to people with Down's syndrome or are feeble-minded...purebred dogs with low IQs and retards with speech impediments. It is impossible to fully understand God's reasoning, but He might include your parents in that bunch.
I applaud you for being as kind and as gentle as you attempt to be.
It's not like we get a How To manual for these times. "we're all a product of our raising". You're doing fine. Yes tell him, he'll hear it, even if he's asleep. Our inner consciousness never sleeps. After death, it will hang out here for a little. Then, it has other ___?____ to pursue.
ReplyDeleteBy all means, tell him. But you know that he already knows, right?
ReplyDeleteFilthie, Regret can be as bitter as acid to deal with and believe me you don't want regrets after he passes, so say what's in your heart and tell him how you feel. His soul is in there and he hears you even if his body is failing.
ReplyDeleteYour parent's getting old and passing is a sharp reminder of our own mortality. Especially if you and your Dad are close, you never really get over their passing. My Dad passed 15 years ago and not a day goes by that I don't miss him.
These things are the things that really MATTER, so don't feel bad about posting about them.
Nothing I can say that hasn’t been already. For what it’s worth, my gut says go sooner rather than later if you can. I got very lucky and managed to get back to my dad before he left us, but only just. 15 years on he & I still chat daily; usually about some frustrating airplane electrical problem I’m working (he was a damn good sparky). It’s pretty one sided but somehow the answers to the questions I ask him get answered…. Go. Set things right and rest easy…both of you.
ReplyDeleteI wish I could tell you the final story of my dad and I.
ReplyDeleteI can’t do that here.
Listen to the advice of P2.
I wish I had the opportunity to see my pop one last time.
I still talk to him everyday. But I only hear my voice.
Ughhhhhh… sorry for that, guys. Thank you all, so much. I got a little to close to that Abyss and was overcome by vertigo. I try to keep this blog about rude jokes and the odd political gripe… but this caught me with my emotional pants down - if that makes any sense?
ReplyDeleteIt's OK to be human.
DeleteIndeed, see him sooner than later. Tell him you love him and take lots of pics, with the two of you. You'll have those and hopefully many more from years past, to look back on. I talk to my parents everyday too. I was fortunate to see each of them the month before they passed.
ReplyDeleteGod Bless you and you family, Glen.
ReplyDeleteYou are an Good Son.
ReplyDeleteChutes Magoo
Sorry youre going through this Glen. I lost my dad recently (Dementia-Parkinsons) and it was terribly sad. My heart goes out to you and I hope you can forgive your mom. Sounds a lot like mine and I've been praying for help to not absolute hate her with white hot rage for being an awful MFR. Spanky.
ReplyDelete