Unfortunately, the day before the event, my dad was admitted to hospital. My sister had come over from England and was happy to sit with him to allow me to attend our fundraiser. I felt bad, but dad seemed much more settled than the previous day and I knew people were depending on us.
The next week was mostly spent sitting with dad, watching helplessly as he deteriorated at an alarmingly rapid pace. The Consultant explained that a full recovery was highly unlikely. In the first few days it was hoped he would recover enough to be released from hospital, but it would’ve been into full nursing care in a residential home.
As time went on it became apparent that our dad, who we loved so much, was not going to survive. On his eleventh day in hospital, my sister and I sat by his bedside all day. He didn’t open his eyes once and it was clear to both of us that he would be leaving us soon. We sat until the evening but agreed to leave at 6pm. We both knew we’d need our energy for the days ahead.
Our dad passed away that night.
Ironically, he was cared for by the same Consultant and many of the same nurses, in the same ward where I was cared for during my hospitalisations four and a half, and three and a half years ago. We even had comfort, help and advice from the Macmillan palliative care team that I had been fundraising for just the week before. It gave me comfort to know he was with good people and getting the best care he could possibly have. We wouldn’t have wanted dad to survive only to lie in a bed the rest of his days, unable to communicate properly and unable to care for himself. His passing brought him peace.
This, of course, is somewhat cold comfort. Dad is gone. The day after tomorrow we will have a funeral service for him and the day after that he will be cremated, as were his wishes.
I still can’t quite believe it. The time since his passing has been filled with funeral plans and getting his affairs in order. Hubby and I have spent time with dad’s partner and friends. It has gone by in a flash. We haven’t had much time to reflect.
Now that we’ve done as much as we can, hubby and I are planning to take tomorrow as a day for ourselves. Yet again I am struck by how lucky I am to have my strong and supportive man by my side. He is grieving too, but his primary concern is making sure I am ok.
There’s not much more to be said really. Tempus fugit. Time flies. Keep your loved ones close because you never know how long you’ll have with them. Dad lived a good life but, at 77 years old, it has still ended too soon. We miss him.
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