Saying Goodbye (conclusion)
The car somehow got me safely to my dad. I don’t remember the drive, it’s as if I came to when I shifted from “drive” to “park,” silently thanking my lucky stars for getting me here. I grabbed my stuff, opened my door and walked over to the entrance. I glanced up to a sunless sky approaching the night, the “in-between” time - it’s not dark but it’s not light. I let my eyes close and my breath unclog from my throat. This is the moment I’ve been dreading since you got sick, I thought to myself. How am I really supposed to say goodbye? I stood motionless for another moment or two and quickly reached for the doors. Locked. I instinctively grabbed my phone for a time check. 6:23 - Visiting hours were over. I smirked, of course they are. The door flew open and I was startled by the jolt. “Hi Rachael,” said a man dressed in dark blue scrubs, a mask covering his face.
“Hello,” I responded, unsure if I was supposed to know this person.
“My name is Mark, I’ve been hanging with Frank. I’m with WestCoast Hospice.”
“Ahhh, the death guru,” I said, eyebrows raised and immediately wanted to suck back in my words. The death guru?? Jezzz. Mark gave a knowing smile and held the door open wider.
“I’ve been called worse. Come on in, let’s go see Frank.” I grabbed a mask from the front to avoid anyone telling me to put one on. “I want to tell you, Rachael,” Mark continued, “he looks different than what you saw the last time you were here. He is unconscious and his breathing is labored. He has an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth and his mouth is open,” he stated very matter-of-factly. I nodded, listening and appreciating the pep talk. We turned the corner and I noticed my dad’s room up on the left. There was a red circle placed on the door that was halfway closed. Mark must have noticed my eyes, “It’s for privacy,” he informed me.
I stopped just outside the door and let out a deep breath and saw my hands were shaking. I swallowed hard and placed my trembling hands together, behind my back. Don’t let him see that you’re scared.
Walking into my dad’s room, I kept my eyes focused on the window across from me, hesitant to look over toward the bed. The hiss of the oxygen tank broke the silence and I allowed my eyes to look over to my right. There he was, propped up eyes mostly shut, hands placed on his lap, hair combed smooth.
“Frank,” Mark gently said while placing his hand on my dad’s frail shoulder. “Rachael just walked in.” As he spoke, he looked at me. I stared at him, unsure of my place in this room. Unsure of what my reaction should be. All I wanted to do was to climb up on that bed, shake my dad, and tell him to wake up. This was all a bad dream. But instead, I smiled at Mark and looked up at the wall. 6:34. I sat next to the bed, slinging my bag on the back of the chair. I didn’t take my eyes off my dad’s chest, watching his body work hard to let in the air. I looked at his eyes. I looked at his covered legs. Just a blip.
Mark patted the sheets, adjusted the oxygen, and looked over at me. “I’m going to check on another patient if you need me - here is my cell. I’m not leaving the building but want to give you time alone.” He placed a card in my hand and silently walked out. And there I was. Alone in a room with my dad who was actively dying. Alone in the silence of the oxygen machine, alone with a lifetime of memories that I was now the keeper of. How did this happen, Dad? I think to myself as I stand up and go to the window. The sun had set and darkness took over the sky. My gaze went back to the other side of the room, watching my dad. It was as if someone hit play on a montage in my mind of my dad. I saw him healthy, holding my hand at the park. I saw him with a big camcorder on his shoulder during a huge performance. I saw him smiling in the garden. I saw him diving under the crash of a wave and popping up on the other side with a huge smile and a thumbs-up. I saw him standing at an open house. I saw him hugging my mom. I saw him in all his forms and I didn’t want to blink. I didn’t want the assortment of memories to fade.
And to be completely honest, I think going back in to my mind was helping me not focus on what was actually happening.
I shook my head and went back to my dads bedside. That is not how he would want me to think about this. He would never want me to be scared. I sat down in the chair beside his bed and placed my hand over his. His skin was so soft and so cold.
7:02. Time was creeping as if to keep him around longer. At that moment, the thought of him leaving this place for the place beyond was like a punch in the gut. And on top of that, I was so tired - I could barely see straight.
I sat in silence, with my hand on his, for what seemed like an eternity. My body shifted, I rested my head on his bed, I leaned back, but I never let go of his hand. His breath continued to labor and I noticed there were moments that he wasn’t breathing at all. I would find myself holding my breath in solidarity. He would eventually take in a big breath of air and so would I. During one of the “holding breath” moments, there was a light tap on the door. Mark, I thought while i silently pleaded for my dad to start breathing again.
“Come in,” I said, sounding out of breath.
The door slowly opened, and it was Julie - the nurse who made the initial call. She had on a hoodie and some leggings. I looked at the clock. 8:12. She could see my perplexity and quietly spoke. “Hi, Rachael,” she said with a smile. “Listen, I came because I heard. And I’m just as much in love with my own dad - so I wanted to come and thank you for sharing sweet Frank with all of us. I know it wasn’t in your plans, but he was a true gem and made my days brighter.” Her eyes were welling with tears. “I can’t imagine how hard this is, but just know he loves you. He would beam every morning when i pointed to your picture. You were … or, are… so important to him and you showed such love and compassion to him until the … well, until now.” She said as a tear rolled down her cheek. “I just wanted to come pay my respects and say goodbye.”
I was in shock. Who is this angel? I thought to myself. “Julie, wow,” I started. “I don’t really know wha…”
“You don’t have to say anything,” she said. She looked over at my dad. “Frankie!” her voice seemed lighter as she went towards him. “Your grand finale is here, dude! Don’t let us down, “ she smiled. “I will so miss you, sweet Frankie. You are unforgettable.” She took the back of her finger and gently touched his cheek.
What am I even witnessing? I thought. Do people like this really exist? She stood straight, wiped her face and turned to look at me. “This is the hardest part, girl.” She whispered as she walked out. “But I know you got it. Your Frankie’s girl.” I stood motionless and wept.
11:47. I was seeing things. I don’t recall a time being this tired in my life. It was more than wanting to sleep, it was such an emotionally draining few days, that I was running on fumes. The breathing slowed tremendously and with each change, I could feel us getting closer. I stood up, stretched and realized I didn’t have dinner. I went to my bag on the back of the chair and found a leftover cliff bar from one of the boys. YES! It felt like such a win. I looked out the window as I scarfed it down. A few minutes later, the door opened again and as I turned, expecting Mark, my jaw hit the floor. Nick, my knight in shining armor was standing at the foot of my dad’s bed, his face was somber and he looked from Frank to me. “I had to come and say goodbye,” he whispered. At that moment, I instantly fell in love with him all over again. I ran to him and held on for what seemed like an eternity.
I got the lowdown that his mom came to stay with the kids and he drove out here. “You must be so tired, Go home,” he spoke. 12:04. No chance, I thought. By 2 a.m., though, I had a different feeling. My body was shutting down right alongside my dad’s. I couldn’t properly form a sentence, I hadn’t eaten and i was so full of anxiety and stress the last few days, the sleep I did get was not restful. I wasn’t sure if it was safe for me to drive home, but I made the decision to leave around 2:30 am. I promised myself that I would be back first thing in the morning, but if I could put in at least 5 hours of sleep into my sleep bank, I could get through the following day.
I gathered up my belongings, always finding my gaze set on Frank. I will see you in the morning, right? I silently asked him. Nick stood up and walked outside the door to give me a minute alone. I sat on the bed, seeing double, and whispered in to existence what a perfect human being my dad was. I told whoever was waiting for him on the other side that they were truly lucky. I kissed my dad’s cheek, I told him how much i absolutely loved him and that I would “see you later.” I squeezed his hand, brushed his curls with my fingers, and thanked him for being the best dad. “I love you bigger than the sky, Daddio,” I said with a smile and tears. “I love you,” echoed the sentiment again. “I love you,” and again. I closed my eyes, placed my head on his chest, and remembered being small, doing the same thing - listening for the most beautiful heartbeat. “I love you,” i said again.
Leaving the facility felt so foreign. I couldn’t determine if I was so overly exhausted that nothing felt right, or if I knew. Either way, sleep was calling me from all corners of the world. As I turned the car on, I noticed the time - 2:41. No traffic, I thought. I’d be home by 3:15. Asleep by 3:17.
I drove in deafening silence all the way home. I hardly moved, I didn’t cry. When I approached my house, I felt as though I had completed a marathon. I walked in slowly and as quiet as possible.
3:12 greeted me at the top of the stairs. I didn’t change, i didn’t wash my face. I closed the guest room door where my mother-in-law slept, I kissed my babies, and I crawled onto my bed, fully clothed.
I didn’t wake up until 5:34 when my phone was buzzing. Answering it with my heart dropping, I already knew.
He was gone.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Hey Rachael, it’s Mark. I wanted to let you know that…”
“Was it peaceful, Mark?” I interupted, impatient and still so tired.
“Extremely,” he replied. “He was just given an early morning sponge bath. Your husband was right next to him,” he continued. “I don’t know which man loves you more,” he said after a beat.
“Thank you for … everything.” I said and I hung up.
He made it, I thought. His grand finale was done. He is in the place beyond, free of anything other than peace.
I closed my eyes and smiled. Missing him took over seconds letter, but so did such profound adoration and love. I was, and remain now during the present day, so proud of his graceful fight, for letting me care for him and for the person he was. I laid in bed for a few more minutes, witness to such a heavy moment and soon, slowly stood. I went to my window and greeted the first day of the “after.” The sky was just turning light and I watched the transitions in silence.
He was gone.
The sun rose with such might that it turned the whole sky pink.
Hi Dad, I said… and smiled.
