Dad has gone downhill rapidly the last few days. We had a long and weird Sunday after he fell out of bed at the rehab facility. He was transferred to an ER (the one you know all too well), and then a trauma center, and then back to the rehab facility. Anyhow, he has become mostly unresponsive since then, and isn’t eating or drinking. It’s a classic “shutdown” situation, so we transferred him to an excellent Hospice facility today. His condition was such that a decision we have been dreading was actually a no-brainer. So now he is quiet and comfortable and watched over 24/7.
So it appears that you and I will be orphans in a few days.
I knew about what happened Sunday from a phone call I got from Ari-the-Husband, so this came as no surprise.
I had a complicated and sometimes strained relationship with my father, relating directly to my complicated and usually strained childhood which was a hell of a long time ago. And over the past few days I wrote a long and positively teen-age piece on the subject which I’m definitely not going to post. I keep telling myself I’ve let certain things go – it’s well past time to actually do that.
Enough. Everything I write and delete on this subject is defensive and all about me. I don’t know what to say. He’s 97 years old. How do normal people handle things like this?
Normal people freak out. Normal people are overwhelmed by thedir emotions. You don’t need to vindicate yourself to us for your relationship being what it was. If baring your soul like Ambulance driver Isn’t for you, then don’t. But I think a mature person would either say nothing, or say a little bit about the things about him that were good, and leave it at that.
I’m sorry to hear it. Having recently been “Orphaned” I could offer a bunch of advice but most of it boils down to thinking of the better times, letting go of the bad times and muddle thru the rest.
Damn near 6 months later and I still want to call him and tell him about my latest misadventure, hope its easier for you.
The normal people in my head say goodbye.
Normal people? What are those?
I was orphaned too, as of last August. You’ll grieve, remember the good…and the bad, and then hopefully start to remember just the good. And go on with life.
Anyway…advance condolences to you and yours.
Respect the process that imbues the human condition. We are all special snowflakes for having been here, for good or ill.
I too had a complicated relationship with my father. I was orphaned forty years ago and at least we had talked again before he died after about five years of being astranged. At least he died well: he just fell down dead on the golf course and he enjoyed golf.
I understand its not for everybody but prayer has helped me through a lot of rough roads. And there were times I lost my religion but always came back.
My relationship with my Dad was very good for the most part. His death in ’97 (today in fact, just realized that) was very sudden and unexpected. A heart attack at home and he died in hospital that same day. I had no time to tell him my gratitude for everything he did for me, but I’m pretty sure he knew. I hope I’m half the Dad to my kids that he was to me pretty much sums it up.
Parent deaths bring a lot of conflicted feelings and keeping thing bottled up inside I think only makes it worse. Talk to your brother / friend / pastor – you will feel better in time.
Sorry man.
May be something in the July atmosphere. My Dad died July 5, 1984. I can’t believe it’s been 31 years. thankfully we had a good relationship in spite of the fact that I was something of a disappointment to him at times along the line.
Like Anonymous said, there’s conflicts and issues even in the best of relationships because, sadly, we’re all humans. Hopefully you can examine those now and then let them pass with him. ML talks often about self ownership, and this is one opportunity to remind yourself of that and not let past troubles own you. Not as easy as it sounds, but worth the effort and I hope you can come to peace for yourself.
Sit in the shade and shoot a squirrel or two , it helps.
My dad was my hero, a great man and honest to the core. I miss him. Very happy I was able to see him just before (hours) he passed. Nothing can be done. You can’t help him or fix anything.
My mother was what every mother should be; strong, loving a teacher to her children. I miss her. Sadly her passing took a long time while she withered away. She didn’t want to live after my dad died and there was little anyone could do to console her. You could distract her for a few moments and enjoy a few moments with her before she would drift away. Life and death is a cycle and it is so hard to bear.
I’m sorry I have no words of wisdom, Joel — other than to say handle this as your gut tells you to handle it, whether that means with teenage emotionalism or hermitty stoicism. Or both at different times.
97. That’s pretty good. Gives hope that, if you inherited the relevant genes, you may be around, entertaining and educating us and serving your desert friends, for a long time.
🙂 Funny you say that, Claire. My father is poor as a churchmouse and always was, and if there were any material inheritance, which I doubt, it would very rightly go to my older brother who’s been taking care of him (and putting up with him) for 30 years or so. But I’ve said for quite some time that if I inherit nothing but his propensity for good health and longevity it’s not a bad deal.
Seems only fair: I definitely inherited his looks, his tendency to go through employers like popcorn, and his way with women. I ought to get something good out of this.
Dying at 97 is a miracle, not a tragedy.
Like Claire, I have no clever words in the face of loss. My own father left us just this past April, aged 91. As you say , dying at 97 is a miracle…considering what that generation went through, making the 90s is an accomplishment. Thoughts are with you in this difficult time.