Waiting

Life goes on all around us, traffic is moving, stores are open, the news is on.  My dad is ready to go.  He has been for quite some time, but the cruel reality is that he's still here, his heart is still beating, but he is gone.  Now we are here, just watching, waiting for the breathing to slow and stop.  It's cruel and unfair.  It's impossible to understand.  He's ready, God, come get him!  Hopefully his struggle will end today. 

Last night sister, mom and I went through photos.  We found so many fun ones, and had a bittersweet time recalling all the little moments we were seeing.  My dad was a fun guy.  We captured a lot of silly moments that will represent him well, and help us to remember those moments when we think of him, and not the moments we have been living the past few weeks.  My mom has been practicing during these few weeks to replace these dark times with happy memories, and I think it's going to work for her.  When I think about loved ones that I've lost, it's not them in sickness that comes to my mind, it's memories of joy and laughter.  I do hope it will be that way for all of us with my dad. 

I see the signs of life outside these walls, and I know my mom will be able to go out there again.  She'll feel the fresh air, she'll laugh with healthy people, she'll drive her little car with the top down, and she'll go shopping again.  She will mourn.  She will miss my dad.  She will cry.  But she's going to get new sea legs, and I'm confident she'll be fine.  The rest of us will start to heal from this pain too, and hopefully we'll learn something from it all that will help us in our own personal lives. 

But for now it just sucks.  Sucks huge.  It's hard to see him like this, it's hard to feel the constant changing emotions, from sadness to guilt to peace, and all the way back again.  It's hard to explain to people what's happening and why I've been so absent from my life. 

My dad was born in 1946.  He lived a pretty full life.  He had a terrible childhood, he was in the Navy and fought in the Vietnam War.  He married young and had four babies.  He lost a child in infancy.  He moved around often.  He battled his demons and found a way to raise three people to a pretty stable adulthood.  He laughed often.  He played guitar.  He was great at his job.  He was silly.  He was very skilled with a charcoal grill.  He loved the Minnesota Twins.  He used to dance to the BeeGees while he vacuumed.  He was proud of his family.  And he will be missed.  He was loved by lots of people, and they will all feel his loss.  But this suffering has got to come to an end.  I told him yesterday it was okay.  We've got this, and mom's going to be fine.  Hopefully in his mind he's already someplace happy.