Trip

I had a good encounter with my dad today. True, he is stuck 24 hours a day in a hospital bed and not very communicative, but I saw peaks into him...and am so thankful.

Despite this, he held my hand (very firmly) this evening after dinner. He even told Karen, "someones cold hand woke me up!" This sense of humor has been absent and it was good to have him back. I was talking to him about coming to visit next weekend and was wondering aloud if we should stay in a hotel for all or partially all of our stay. He said, "the creatures..." and I said, "are you referring to my offspring as creatures?" and he said, "yes."

I asked him if he had a nice visit with Kari and Kevin and he said, "OH YES!" and, "Very much so." He told Kari (my step sister) today that "you were never far from my heart." I was so touched by this force of emotion with which he was able to articulate.

I asked him tonight if he believes in God and he said, "I think so." I brought up his green jeans God seeing...but he remained mute and didn't say anything.

He seems to enjoy listening to the Oldies station on the TV and it has been playing for the past two days. He points out singers, indicating that he likes Neil Diamond.

He enjoyed the strawberry pie that Karen made for dessert tonight and always drinks a large glass of milk with each meal. He eats only tablespoons of food at a time. Maybe a 1/2 cup of food in every meal.

Club

There is a weird club that I am wanting to be part of: the dying parent club and no one who hasn't experienced it is allowed. I am being melodramatic but I truly notice a deep desire to connect with others who have gone through this. I immediately feel a kinship and sense of empathy. I feel closer to them because we share this horrible bond. I look at the words that I just typed "horrible bond" and wonder if I am being dramatic again. Death is inevitable, so it shouldn't be a surprise. In the end, we all die, but it just feels so isolating to keep living long after your loved one's pass. Feeling a sense of aloneness that hasn't hit me with the deaths of other family members.

This parent dying thing sucks. Death forces most to look at their mortality, but a parents death causes you to examine deeper. You are now alone in the world, without your parents (hopefully) undying support and love. It feels very isolating. The ripple's of their death go far beyond me and touch my children's lives. This is one of the aspects that hurt the most. My youngest children will never know the man who was my father. They will always be grandfather less on their mom's side. It isn't fair and my heart aches for their ignorance of this great man.

Scared

Though I am scared and terribly saddened by my dad's upcoming death, I am also frightened by how it will change me.

Will it make me colder, less flexible, less compromising in life. Will I live life with a, "Life's too short" philosophy; abandoning my marriage and cares? Or will I secretly begin to resent my husband more; for all of the ways he is unlike my peaceful and centered father? Will I seek out men with these qualities, hoping to feel a piece of my dad surrounding me? I am fearful of the unknown and concerned how his death will rock my world.

I can't lose this loving man in my life. He is the opposite of all the masculine cliche's. He is calm, fun, open minded, and settled. He doesn't make jokes about politics, hunting, and women (at least never in front of me). He may laugh at some jokes...but he never initiates. He is patient with kids, spending much of his career counseling young kids and teens. He is goodness and I always knew he would become a better grandfather than father. He doesn't have the chance, now, and that makes me so mournful for all of us.

Hospice

This picture was taken of my dad in August 2007 at our first ever Linville Family Reunion. He looks so happy, don't you think?

I just received a cell phone message from Karen telling me that she needed to talk to me and that my dad was now on hospice. She said his health had really declined and needed to let me know what was going on. I called her back, but she didn't answer.

I had a mini breakdown over this. The kind where the sobs come out in whimpers. I feel so anguished and alone. I am frustrated with myself for not spending more time with him in January, asking him all the things I had to time to ask him then. He isn't able to hold a coherent question at this point and I missed my window. I wish someone would have told me to stay with him. I wish someone would have insisted on this.

I plan to travel back down this weekend. The question becomes as to whether I should take the kids or not. I suppose he I will ask Karen about this and proceed from there.

It is interesting how I avoid calling. Maybe because I don't know her that well, possibly because it is painful to face, and I will let myself off the hook a bit and say that I am busy with three kids and a family. I know that I will read this words months and years from now and frown at how little I called. I don't forgive myself for this.