Preparing to Say Goodbye (Part III)

He starred. Hard. Right at me. Unwavering as I quickly stood up. “DAD!” I said with an emphasis on the A. “HI, you’re awake! Good morning!” I continued as I made my way closer to his face, his eyes following my every move. My moms breath caught in her throat as she stood up. It was as if we were seeing Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny - a figment of our imagination. We were in disbelief. I thought he was on the way out, I thought to myself and quickly sat down on his bed, near his hip, facing him. “You look great,” I said and immediately wanted to suck my words back in. SHUT UP, you idiot. This isn’t a fashion show. My mom hurriedly sat down opposite of me.

“Hi Frankie,” she whispered. We both reached for him at the same time and although he didn’t return our embrace, it felt so good to be near him. Because of the COVID lockdown, I hadn’t been close to him in over six months. He looked…. different. His skin was thin and eyes looked as if he had lived a thousand years. He was tired. Tired of fighting and living in this body with a mind that was caving in on itself. I placed my hand on his and we locked eyes.

“God, I have missed you,” I said while I gently squeezed his hand. I smiled up at him and felt the faintest squeeze back. My dream come true. We looked, unmoving, at each other and my mom broke the silence.

“I think I’ll go get the nurse. They should know he’s up,” she said with a smile and a quick shutter. She pushed through the curtain and opened the door and the noise from the nursing facility filled the room. But the two of us, me and my sweet dad, didn’t ‘bother to notice. We were locked in. His beautiful calmness was like a blanket and I instantly felt a wave of peace as we shared the silence. I didn’t need to say anything, I didn’t need to do anything but be there, looking at the man who raised me with such love and adoration.

“Dad,” I whispered, unsure if this was the time. “I can see how tired you are… and… and I know you are a fighter. But, it’s ok to let go. I am ok. Mom is ok. We will be ok,” I continued. “You go, when you are ready, but please don’t stick around for me. I promise that I am good.” He continued to look at me with his weary, but beautiful eyes. “I will be ok,” I said one last time. He blinked, a long, laborious blink. “I promise, I will be ok.” I reiterated and with that, the door flew open and Julie entered with her full PPE and her sweet eyes.

“FRANK!” she gleamed! “You’re up!” She went over to his oxygen machine, dialed it down and checked his vitals. She took his temperature and reported that his levels were slightly elevated. “You also have a little bit of a fever, lets get you something to make you more comfortable.” As she left the room, another person entered. It was my dads youngest brother, Chris, covered in all the protective gear - only recognizable by his eyes. The shock he felt seeing his brother was visible through his covered face.

“Hi,” he said with a raspy voice and immediately cleared his throat. “Hi, hi everyone,” he said again, unsure of where to stand. Julie nudged passed him to give my dad some liquid Tylenol.

“Frank, I’m going to lay you back a bit so this goes down easy for you,” she reassured my dad as she slowly moved his bed down. His feet started thrash and he reached up to grab his oxygen mask. “It’s ok,” she said gently. I closed my eyes and prayed to anyone up there to let this pass quickly. As she moved the bed back up and repositioned my dad, I could see it in his eyes, his feet were still moving. I gently placed my hand on his arm. He quickly moved it out from under my grasp, his eyes looking up at me. Whats bothering you? Please don’t let this be the way you die….a struggle, I thought. Julie, my mom, me and my uncle all watched as my dad became more and more anxious. “Rachael, can I talk to you in the hall?” Julie broke the silence with her question.

I didn’t answer but quickly stood up and followed her out of my dads room. She spoke quietly “Your dad is on hospice care and we have his comfort kit here, are you ok with me administering Ativan to soothe his restlessness?” I nodded quickly in response.

“Yes, of course. Anything to make him comfortable.” She nodded and turned away, leaving me in the fluorescent lit hallway with my own thoughts. I felt like I was watching a movie of myself, like I was far above my body. So many images of my dad flashed through my mind, it was like a movie montage of him slowly playing in my thoughts. I wasn’t alone long. There was a tap on my shoulder and I jumped and turned to find my uncle standing beside me, still covered up in his PPE. F’ing Covid, I think as I face him.

“This can’t be real,” he says, jerking his head back towards my dads room. “He’s really leaving us, huh?” he asks.

“He’ll know when it’s time…. “ I trail off, distracted by some commotion down the hall. A man in a wheelchair is arguing with a nurse about something I can’t make out, but I try. Being distracted like this feels good. The man in the wheelchair is using his arms to roll himself backwards, towards my uncle and I. He’s still shouting something at the nurse as I see him using most of his energy to get away from her. As he inches closer, I recognize him and instinctively walk towards him. It’s my dad’s roommate, Daryl. I place my hands on his wheelchair as he turns his head in anger. “What the hell?” he snarls.

“Darly. It’s Me…Rachael.”

“Oh my god,” his voice breaks with a cry. “Is he gone?” he asks as I step in front of him.

“Nope, he actually just woke up, I respond.”

“I need a moment to say goodbye and the nurses are pissed and I …”

“Daryl,” I cut him off. “You have every right to see my dad. I’ll talk to the nurse for you. Lets head in,” I say as I turn his chair and wheel him to the foot of my dads bed. I hear quiet sobs as Daryl places his frail hand on my dads foot.

“Hey bud,” he whispers through tears. “I need to tell you something, Frank. You are a good man. You have been my best friend for years and it has been an honor to be with you in here.” He gets real quiet and I listen intently from the door. “I truly love you and I’m so sorry to see you go,” he continues through his cries. “I can’t imagine not seeing you, but hell - you get to get outta here! You deserve to fly high, man.” Silence. A second or two later, Daryl is making his way out, towards me, with a tear stricken face and a heavy heart. “I freakin’ love your dad, Rachael. He is one of the good ones.” He grabs my hand and keeps talking. “It’s lonely as hell in here. But your dad? Your dad was a friend to us all and he made the long nights less lonely. He couldn’t talk, but is presence was powerful. Thank you for giving him to me,” and with that - he starts rolling away - towards the nurse he was arguing with earlier. As I watch him leave, I see his body shaking from letting all the sadness out. I walk back in to my dads room and I hear the most guttural cry come from down the hall and I close my eyes.

When I open them, I look back at my dad and his eyes are closed too. What do you see? I think as I sit beside him.

Is this really it?