He looked like he was sleeping. A bit pale, a bit cold. I pulled the covers up to his shoulders to keep him warm, and crawled into bed next to him. One last time cuddling with my dad.
My dad always had this habit of falling asleep in his chair, with the remote in one hand, mug of hot tea in the other, and that certain look of his mouth as he began to snore. Susie and I would watch how close his tea would get to being spilled as he relaxed. Most of the time, he managed to hold it together.
Today, he let go. Finally.
I put my hand on his chest. There was no heartbeat, no breathing, not even a tremble. Obviously, its not natural to feel that stillness, that quiet, in a person. But, this was my dad and somehow it just worked. It was like magic. I pictured his heart beating, not in his body, but in his rising spirit, the spirit now as one, at peace, with my mom.
I lay there next to him for a while and cried. Then, Susie, David, Rick and I joined hands with Dad and prayed for the wonderful news of Dad and Mom being together again. I really bawled when David spoke. This "at times too serious" engineer brother-in-law of mine wept as he spoke of my dad and what he meant to him. I'm not surprised. We all know the mushy David is in there. Every word spoken by the 4 of us was just perfect, including the giggles at things remembered, me sneezing in the middle of it, and the funeral director knocking on the door saying they were ready for Dad. The only thing missing was a dog throwing up in the background. My dad would have rolled his eyes in frustration or he might have joined in on the silliness with one of his funny faces. Holy moments can be found everywhere!
During the past few months, Dad has been teaching me this phrase in Arabic. It phonetically sounds like 'Sabah hanoor alal bahnoor', with that ckah noise that comes from the back of your throat (like you're coughing up a hair ball) in just the right places. I learned to say it just right but he wouldn't tell me what it meant! I wondered if he had taught me a bad word and asked him all the time to translate. He just smiled and shook his head. He was happy to hear Arabic being said back to him.
My cousin told me it means 'Good morning, sunshine!'. I bet my dad heard that today as he began his new life in Heaven.
On Friday night, as I stayed with him, he became restless around 4:00 am. He was determined to get out of bed because he had an appendectomy to do. I tried to coax him to lie back down but he told me the anesthesiologist was ready for him. He had an appendectomy to perform. He talked about making a lateral incision in the lower right quadrant, thru the muscle. He told Susie she could scrub in. He talked about anesthesia and analgesia. Susie had to explain that part to me. He said he would do purse-like suturing, so that there would be minimal scaring.
You always return to what you knew first and what you know best!
As family talked today, we realized Dad assisted in saving the lives of 4 family members. He helped my cousin Jana get emergency surgery when the doctors didn't know/wouldn't do further examination to see what was wrong with her. He ordered bloodwork,on a hunch, on my cousin Michelle, and found out she had leukemia. Another cousin's 3 day old baby, Tony, was screaming and not feeding well. He quickly rushed Nevine's newborn into emergency surgery for a strangulated hernia and did a bowel resection. Then, after Rick's heart valve surgery, complications arose on the way home from the hospital. I called the doctor and they said it was probably a reaction to moving around more than usual. I called Dad, he and my Uncle Raouf(an ob/gyn) came over,
diagnosed Rick with severe tachycardia and other heart rhythm problems. Next thing I knew, they picked Rick up, put him in our car, wrapped their arms around him, and cradled his head, while I drove and they yelled in Arabic to any car that dared get in my way.
By the end of this week all 4 of these people, along with everyone else who loved Dad, will gather to say goodbye. What a legacy he has left for us!
I was crying as I started writing this post. I didn't want it to be tomorrow because I didn't want to start my first day without him. Well, it is now after midnight, a new day has begun and I have survived. I get a lot of my strength from my dad. I'll go on, doing the next right thing, each day.
So, in case I don't talk to you tomorrow morning, oops... I mean THIS morning, Sabah hanoor alal bahnoor!
Monday, July 23, 2012
Thursday, July 19, 2012
My dad...
He's dying...
He's more than ready. He's been ready since Sept. 27, 2010, the day my mom passed away. All he ever wanted was to be with my mom... and for them to be happy. That happiness eluded my mom, consequently leaving my dad in the same position. He'll get his wish very soon.
It's been so hard to watch Dad decline. He stares at his hand, the one he did surgery with, the one he saved lives with... only to see that he hasn't been able to even hold a fork since his 4 strokes in early '07. Gone is the independence, the spouse, many friends, the house, the garden, the car, the dog that he cannot care for (Maggie lives with us now). Everything my dad owns is in his small apartment in the assisted living part of The Forum.
Books, magazines, a tv, a plant, a few clothes, meals in the dining room cannot sustain a man. When the body fails, dignity flies out the window and the life spirit dries up, what are you left with? Not a whole lot.
Susie and I have put everything we could into being there for Dad. We wouldn't have it any other way. Dealing with his frustrations, his loneliness, his 3-5 calls per day every day and watching the man who scooped you up as a child fade away is not for the weak. He is SO worth it!
Memories of your hand being so little, and his so big, that all you could hold was his pinky. Memories of falling asleep in the car (well, almost asleep) and knowing that he was going to pick you up in his arms and carry you to bed. Walking you down the aisle, holding your new baby, loving your husband like a son, saying what a fine person you've become and he's proud to be your dad.
Now it's Depends, smoothies because it hurts for him to swallow food, bed changes and morphine drops.
As I've stayed beside him all day today (Susie took yesterday's shift). I have heard him moan a lot. It made me think.... he's had morphine, he says he has no pain... So why all the moaning. I saw the same with my mom and with Hilary, although morphine doesn't do the trick when you're dealing with the cancer monster.
Still, they've all moaned. Made me think... Dying is hard. Letting go is hard. Maybe as you take a step down this new, brightly-lit path and although you feel warm gushy love up ahead your heart moans every time you turn around to look backwards. Leaving behind your loved ones, blue sky, green trees, sounds of a river flowing, hearing a child laugh...all hard. Even if you know where you're going and who will be waiting on the other side, leaving behind all you've ever known is tough business. That would be enough to make me moan.
I don't know how much time he has left. Days.... A week or two...
So here I'll stay, soaking up every ounce of him I can... every freckle, how he furrows his brow, his ear-to-ear smile, how he can still pinch with his toes, his silly voices, him mumbling in Arabic (because you return to what you knew first), the image of me holding his hand, the smell of his cologne, how I probably need to clip his fingernails one last time. ONE LAST TIME!
I'm bracing myself. Calm on the outside, shaking like a leaf on the inside. I've said everything I needed and wanted to say. We both KNOW what a special bond we have.
Parting is but sweet sorrow.
Love you, Dad!!
Love, Bethy
He's dying...
He's more than ready. He's been ready since Sept. 27, 2010, the day my mom passed away. All he ever wanted was to be with my mom... and for them to be happy. That happiness eluded my mom, consequently leaving my dad in the same position. He'll get his wish very soon.
It's been so hard to watch Dad decline. He stares at his hand, the one he did surgery with, the one he saved lives with... only to see that he hasn't been able to even hold a fork since his 4 strokes in early '07. Gone is the independence, the spouse, many friends, the house, the garden, the car, the dog that he cannot care for (Maggie lives with us now). Everything my dad owns is in his small apartment in the assisted living part of The Forum.
Books, magazines, a tv, a plant, a few clothes, meals in the dining room cannot sustain a man. When the body fails, dignity flies out the window and the life spirit dries up, what are you left with? Not a whole lot.
Susie and I have put everything we could into being there for Dad. We wouldn't have it any other way. Dealing with his frustrations, his loneliness, his 3-5 calls per day every day and watching the man who scooped you up as a child fade away is not for the weak. He is SO worth it!
Memories of your hand being so little, and his so big, that all you could hold was his pinky. Memories of falling asleep in the car (well, almost asleep) and knowing that he was going to pick you up in his arms and carry you to bed. Walking you down the aisle, holding your new baby, loving your husband like a son, saying what a fine person you've become and he's proud to be your dad.
Now it's Depends, smoothies because it hurts for him to swallow food, bed changes and morphine drops.
As I've stayed beside him all day today (Susie took yesterday's shift). I have heard him moan a lot. It made me think.... he's had morphine, he says he has no pain... So why all the moaning. I saw the same with my mom and with Hilary, although morphine doesn't do the trick when you're dealing with the cancer monster.
Still, they've all moaned. Made me think... Dying is hard. Letting go is hard. Maybe as you take a step down this new, brightly-lit path and although you feel warm gushy love up ahead your heart moans every time you turn around to look backwards. Leaving behind your loved ones, blue sky, green trees, sounds of a river flowing, hearing a child laugh...all hard. Even if you know where you're going and who will be waiting on the other side, leaving behind all you've ever known is tough business. That would be enough to make me moan.
I don't know how much time he has left. Days.... A week or two...
So here I'll stay, soaking up every ounce of him I can... every freckle, how he furrows his brow, his ear-to-ear smile, how he can still pinch with his toes, his silly voices, him mumbling in Arabic (because you return to what you knew first), the image of me holding his hand, the smell of his cologne, how I probably need to clip his fingernails one last time. ONE LAST TIME!
I'm bracing myself. Calm on the outside, shaking like a leaf on the inside. I've said everything I needed and wanted to say. We both KNOW what a special bond we have.
Parting is but sweet sorrow.
Love you, Dad!!
Love, Bethy
Where is that remote???
It's time now for THE RAINEY DAYS OF OUR LIVES....we apologize for the interruption of shows.....beyond our control.....system overload
So, on the last few episodes of A Rainey Kind of Day (the Drama channel, daily at 5:00 pm CST, 6:00 pm Eastern, 3:00 pm on the West Coast) Josh was in Utah, Beth and Rick were talking of Lauren going to a program in California and and life was in a lulled, low key turmoil.
Most of you saw the previews on Facebook of upcoming episodes, I'm sure. Lauren left for the OPI program in CA, around the 3rd week of Feb. and Beth and Rick had a month to themselves. Our lead characters did not go jetting off for trips, well, only one to NYC, they did not go out to lavish dinners or party it up with friends. No, they crawled into bed and licked.... Oh, you naughty people. This is not an R rated kind of drama!!! No, they licked their wounds and enjoyed the stillness of their home.
It had been a long time since the house on Sunrise Glen had seen such peace. The rooms no longer echoed with the sounds of slamming doors, disrespectful behavior or tears. The couple enjoyed the quietness and the freedom from worry for the first time in several years. (think back to seasons 1-4)
By the end of March, Josh was ready to return to his homeland. He set his bearded jaw, grabbed his shoe lace-less shoes and jumped back into life. He had never lived at home without his older sister, so a new normal started to emerge. There were dinners for 3, along with nice talks, and therapeutic conversations. School started back up, family therapy resumed and the Raineys felt hope and happiness return to their lives.
However, there was a familiar villain in town. CAMERA 1... Dramatic close up with that spooky music....ACTION! He's hiding around corners and lurking in the back seat of the cars. The Raineys had seen this stalker before. They filed a retraining order (home contracts)and brought in the SWAT team (the Tarnow Center) to rid their lives from this frequent visitor.
DRAMATIC PAUSE.........followed by a message brought to you by the makers of Starbucks, Wellbutrin and dark chocolate.
So, recap... Josh left, Beth cried, Rick hugged Beth, Lauren left, Beth cried, Rick hugged Beth, Beth and Rick rested, Josh returned, and the villain (known well on the
Drama channel as mental illness) was spotted back into the neighborhood. The family knew he never really left in the first place. The Raineys though he might have moved a couple of houses down, but no. That other familiar face turned out to be... DU DU DUUUUUH!...the villain's twin brother, Depression. He looked quite different because he had had a face transplant by Dr. Drake Remoray, and had his hair colored by his stepSister-in-law's half cousin's best friend, named Kitty Von Kat!!!!
As the sands of time drop slowly from the hour glass, the family buckles up, puts on their steeled-toe combat boots and heads into battle, with a crowd of Canuks and Texans waving flags in support.
So.... These are the Rainey Days of Our Lives! Tune in tomorrow to see God Knows Best, the longest running show on cable channel 47 (available all day, every day, in every time zone)!
That's a wrap
So, on the last few episodes of A Rainey Kind of Day (the Drama channel, daily at 5:00 pm CST, 6:00 pm Eastern, 3:00 pm on the West Coast) Josh was in Utah, Beth and Rick were talking of Lauren going to a program in California and and life was in a lulled, low key turmoil.
Most of you saw the previews on Facebook of upcoming episodes, I'm sure. Lauren left for the OPI program in CA, around the 3rd week of Feb. and Beth and Rick had a month to themselves. Our lead characters did not go jetting off for trips, well, only one to NYC, they did not go out to lavish dinners or party it up with friends. No, they crawled into bed and licked.... Oh, you naughty people. This is not an R rated kind of drama!!! No, they licked their wounds and enjoyed the stillness of their home.
It had been a long time since the house on Sunrise Glen had seen such peace. The rooms no longer echoed with the sounds of slamming doors, disrespectful behavior or tears. The couple enjoyed the quietness and the freedom from worry for the first time in several years. (think back to seasons 1-4)
By the end of March, Josh was ready to return to his homeland. He set his bearded jaw, grabbed his shoe lace-less shoes and jumped back into life. He had never lived at home without his older sister, so a new normal started to emerge. There were dinners for 3, along with nice talks, and therapeutic conversations. School started back up, family therapy resumed and the Raineys felt hope and happiness return to their lives.
However, there was a familiar villain in town. CAMERA 1... Dramatic close up with that spooky music....ACTION! He's hiding around corners and lurking in the back seat of the cars. The Raineys had seen this stalker before. They filed a retraining order (home contracts)and brought in the SWAT team (the Tarnow Center) to rid their lives from this frequent visitor.
DRAMATIC PAUSE.........followed by a message brought to you by the makers of Starbucks, Wellbutrin and dark chocolate.
So, recap... Josh left, Beth cried, Rick hugged Beth, Lauren left, Beth cried, Rick hugged Beth, Beth and Rick rested, Josh returned, and the villain (known well on the
Drama channel as mental illness) was spotted back into the neighborhood. The family knew he never really left in the first place. The Raineys though he might have moved a couple of houses down, but no. That other familiar face turned out to be... DU DU DUUUUUH!...the villain's twin brother, Depression. He looked quite different because he had had a face transplant by Dr. Drake Remoray, and had his hair colored by his stepSister-in-law's half cousin's best friend, named Kitty Von Kat!!!!
As the sands of time drop slowly from the hour glass, the family buckles up, puts on their steeled-toe combat boots and heads into battle, with a crowd of Canuks and Texans waving flags in support.
So.... These are the Rainey Days of Our Lives! Tune in tomorrow to see God Knows Best, the longest running show on cable channel 47 (available all day, every day, in every time zone)!
That's a wrap
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