Saturday, October 24, 2009

Just when I think that this grieving thing is over, it sneaks upon me once more, much like a stone inside your shoe, it cannot be ignored.

Six years ago today, I was sitting at my father's bedside keeping vigil as I had done for the five weeks he had been paralyzed. I sensed that the end was near. Nothing much changed on this night. Just a knowing without knowing. His breathing seemed more rapid than before, although it was by no means labored. I spent the entire night watching over him. Afraid that he would slip away if I fell asleep. I rested my head on the side of his chest and waited for dawn to break.

Around 10:40 I realized that I had not fed his beloved animals. I went into the yard, casting some cracked wheat to his many pigeons. Gave his six chickens some fresh water and corn. I wasn't gone for more than five minutes. Within those five minutes, my father died. Although he had been comatose for a few days, he opened his eyes for my mother, smiled , and raised his head to kiss her. Then, he just stopped breathing.

It was very hard for me to accept this timing. I so much wanted to be by his side as he drew his last breath.....I did however, witness the exhale of his last breath as I held him close to me.

Anniversaries. They sneak up on you and stir the old wounds. They draw blood from where you were sure there was no longer a scab, only a scar. I was so glad it was raining when I realized that my scab was torn today. No one realized that I was crying.

Rain, just rain.

2 comments:

Avozinha said...

Abraço.

Sheila said...

It sneaks up on us when we least expect it!
My last episode was in WalMart, the elderly greeter had the same accent as my dad, and he made a sweet comment about my grand daughter, and I was off.
I sat at my Dad's beside through the last night of his life in June this year.
His breathing was changing we knew it wouldn't be long. I held his hand and talked quietly to him, and sang him nursery rhymes like he did for me when I was a child and couldn't sleep. I told him his parents, and sister and brother and my mother were waiting for him.
When the time came he opened his eyes for the first time in days, lifted his head and inch or two from the pillow, and then with a smile and a sigh he joined them.
I wonder if your father waited until you left the room before he went, thinking he was sparing you
his passing.
The photo of your grand daughter in the previous post is beautiful, what a gorgeous child she is.
Love you
xx