There were things that my dad said that made me wonder how much he knew he was going to die. Sometimes I can’t decide. How much can a person comprehend that they are going to die? How much hope can you coast on? Is there a default human instinct to deny the inevitable, in order to try and preserve oneself? Or, is it possible that he had a few fleeting moments in which he entertained the idea that it wouldn’t be so bad? That maybe with all the treatment, we could prolong it?
He had talked about moving into my sister’s house in his “end days,” with a demeanor that seemed to suggest months away in the future. On another occasion, in reference to his taxes being done wrong, he said he didn’t “want to get a letter in the mail in June.” This sentiment made me raise an eyebrow, but I didn’t have the courage to question it. I certainly believed he could make it to April and I hoped that maybe to May.
One day as the Johnny Cash song, “We’ll Meet Again” was softly playing on the tv, I looked over at my dad as he had fallen asleep. He sat reclined in his chair, gray mouth gaping open. I sat incredulous at his state, wondering if he died in his sleep. Hoping for that one solitary luxury. I sat carefully watching his rib cage slowly rise and fall, and I cried. This was my dad, this was our home. My dad was going to die. How could this be our home?
It felt like being held hostage, watching and being chained, without hope, without help or comfort. Every single moment was a nightmare. Most days we marched through all the terror while other days we crawled. Even now it stuns me to remember what it was like, the world we were living in.
Tears streamed down my face as I tried to understand how this was still our same life, world and home. Everything felt like a betrayal, a parallel universe, a counterfeit version of what had been our life. This was not our living room, but a sinister replica. My dad had been managing up until then. All of our denial had been carrying us, but things were about to change. I knew we were running out of time. It was all about to fall apart.
Shine A Light On Me 