Saying Goodbye (Part V)
I drove up to my dimly light house and took in a big breath. I slowly let it out, rested my weary head on the steering wheel and closed my eyes. Just a blip. I reminded myself. I slowly got out of the car, carrying with me the most drained exhaustion I had felt in years. Just a blip. I made my way to my front door, slipped off my shoes, and stood motionless in the entryway of my sleepy house. “Mrs. Martinez, it’s Julie…” the panicked phone call made it’s way back in to my mind. Shaking my head, I took the stairs two at a time hoping not to wake anyone. 12:01am, read the clock at the top of the stairs.
“You’re back,” I heard a whisper in the dark. Startled, i looked behind and saw my oldest son.
“Hey, Bud…” I whispered back. “I hope I didn’t wake you, I just…”
“Did he die, Mom?” Max’s whisper cut me off.
“No sweets, he’s still here.” I answered.
“Will he die?” he questioned.
“Well, Max - I’m assuming it’ll happen soon. But it’s not happening tonight. He ate something small and is asleep, resting now,” I assured him. “It was just a blip,” I added.
“Will you die?” he continued.
“Oh bud,” the tears crept up. “Not today,” I said with a smile. He smiled back and reached to hug me with sleepy eyes. “Lets get you back to bed.” We made his way back in to his room, I bent down and kissed him. “I’m home now - you rest. i’ll do the same. Apu is in really good hands, and I’m a phone call away if something were to happen to him. Dream of sweet things, angel boy. I love you.”
“I love you mom,” I heard, faintly as I walked out of the room. The silence of the house once again greeted me and I walked in to my bathroom, turned on the water and cried as hard as i possibly could.
The next morning I woke with the sun, it’s as though my mind wouldn’t let me rest. 6:09am. Team no sleep, I thought as I got up and made my way down the hall, careful not to wake anyone else. I was in a dense fog, floating from here to there. I was up until 2am, tossing and turning, slept for 45 minutes, woke, went back to sleep, I stood motionless in my kitchen trying to see just how tired I was. 6:11am. Too early to call.
The kids woke, as did Nick and they had alot of questions. What happened? Does chocking make you die? Do you feel scared? What does he look like? I answered the best as I could and also made the effort to turn the conversation back on to them. What did you do yesterday? Oh! Baseball! How fun? Were Matt and Lucas there? Breakfast was made, games were played, sentences were spoken - but I felt like I was in two places at once. Unable to control this urge, I called my dads facility around 9am.
“He slept well. He had some oatmeal for breakfast and now he’s getting a little sponge bath.” Julie reported after I enquired. “He smiled alot this morning and even did his famous Frank holler, so I would say he’s feeling better.”
“And the fever?” I asked.
“Gone.” Julie reported. “I would try as hard as you can to take a couple deep breaths. I think it was just a bad situation. Know that we will call you the minute anything doesn’t seem right.” She added. I thanked her profusely for all her support, but mostly for taking care of my dad in such a gentle way. I gave my family the update and they suggested we walk down to the beach for a picnic lunch. Why not?
The day continued and so did my fatigue. I laid on the sand, watching my boys playing and digging and exploring. I smiled. And I closed my eyes. My breath seemed to flow a tad easier now.
When we got home, I placed both boys in a warm tub as I opened up the fridge to decide on dinner. The incessant yawns made everything seem harder. 5:02. Lets just order takeout, I thought. As I reached for my phone, it was receiving a call. Dad.
I answered as I held on to the counter. “Hi, it’s Julie. I think you should come back…” she trailed off, as if she was listening to someone else.
“What?” I questioned.
“He’s nonresponsive, Rachael. He had a yogurt snack about 30 minutes and we thought we cleared his airways after a big coughing fit, but it’s not looking good.”
“No,” I said, my voice shaky and angry at the same time.
“Come as soon as you can, ok?” she urged. “But drive safely,” she added. She must be a mom, I thought. “We’ve called Dr. V. and his hospice team. Everyone will be at the facility when you get here.”
“On my way,” is all i could muster up. When I placed the phone back on the counter, my three boys stood there looking at me. The deepest brown eyes of my two boys were firmly placed on me, a towel draped around their beautiful bodies. I knelt down and they made their way over. No one said a word, but we all knew. I squeezed them so tight, kissed their wet heads and grabbed a jacket. “I’ll be back soon,” I said. I kissed nick, tears in his eyes. “I gotta go,” I said as I closed the door. One foot in front of the other, my breath going in and out, i finally reached my car. Turning it on, I had the deepest pit in my stomach. I knew this was it. As I pulled the car away from the curb, I realized that all of my life is the before. My life is now split in two. Before my dad died, and after.
This would be the final goodbye. No more blips, no more scares. I could feel it deep in my bones.
Could he?
