Almost Home
When my Daddy died, we almost had warning. Not quite, I wasn't paying attention to the signs, but I guess I had and wanted to ignore them.
We were right at a month to the day when he fell one night. Mom called late at night to tell me they had called an ambulance and he was taken to the local hospital. Not for anything broken, but no reason for the fall. Dizzyness, but no physical damage. She couldn't get him up. She had called her grandson who lives in the same neighborhood and he came with his Mom, a nurse practicioner, who said they should call 911.
A couple of weeks later after many tests at the hospital that revealed nothing, we settled on a quick trip to the nursing home to have in house therapy. We knew Daddy was stubborn and that a home health therapist wouldn't come enough to help him, and he would fight them on his home territory.
Daddy knew one of the therapists, a long time family friend. He goes to church with my Dad, is a friend to me, and years ago even hosted a bachelor party for my brother in his home. OK, side bar, it was probably more of a small town beer party but my brother was the honoree.
Daddy had half jokingly told us before that he was OK with being cremated. We were to put him in a box, on the mantle in the living room, and when Mom went we could just put him in with her.
I didn't expect to take his direction that week. That very morning I had texted my friend that our needs were low - Daddy needed the strength that Mom wouldn't have to pick him up in her 70's, that he could self toilet and make it to his recliner. That was all I needed.
He died at 3pm.
They called me at 3:30pm.
I left work and sensed he was already gone, that the call didn't say what they wanted to say.
I didn't go home and get anything, I just drove to my home town.
I called my friend and he said he would go to the nursing home and check on Dad.
Just as I drove into town he called me and said to turn in the direction of the hospital, he had been taken there.
I still held out hope. But I knew.
I pulled into the parking lot, the ER side, and they were waiting. I spoke to the mother of my nephews, I was pretending. The wife, also my friend, walked over to me and touched me and said, "He's gone."
We were right at a month to the day when he fell one night. Mom called late at night to tell me they had called an ambulance and he was taken to the local hospital. Not for anything broken, but no reason for the fall. Dizzyness, but no physical damage. She couldn't get him up. She had called her grandson who lives in the same neighborhood and he came with his Mom, a nurse practicioner, who said they should call 911.
A couple of weeks later after many tests at the hospital that revealed nothing, we settled on a quick trip to the nursing home to have in house therapy. We knew Daddy was stubborn and that a home health therapist wouldn't come enough to help him, and he would fight them on his home territory.
Daddy knew one of the therapists, a long time family friend. He goes to church with my Dad, is a friend to me, and years ago even hosted a bachelor party for my brother in his home. OK, side bar, it was probably more of a small town beer party but my brother was the honoree.
Daddy had half jokingly told us before that he was OK with being cremated. We were to put him in a box, on the mantle in the living room, and when Mom went we could just put him in with her.
I didn't expect to take his direction that week. That very morning I had texted my friend that our needs were low - Daddy needed the strength that Mom wouldn't have to pick him up in her 70's, that he could self toilet and make it to his recliner. That was all I needed.
He died at 3pm.
They called me at 3:30pm.
I left work and sensed he was already gone, that the call didn't say what they wanted to say.
I didn't go home and get anything, I just drove to my home town.
I called my friend and he said he would go to the nursing home and check on Dad.
Just as I drove into town he called me and said to turn in the direction of the hospital, he had been taken there.
I still held out hope. But I knew.
I pulled into the parking lot, the ER side, and they were waiting. I spoke to the mother of my nephews, I was pretending. The wife, also my friend, walked over to me and touched me and said, "He's gone."
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