Being - as a "verb"
My dad is sick, very sick. I talked with my mom this past Wednesday and she spilled all the details.
My dad had a heart attack about 3 months ago. It was his 2nd one, the first happened about 1 1/2 yrs. ago. After the first one, the doctors told him his statistics, his chances, and told him about the changes needed in order to not become those statistics. He has made no changes, absolutely none. This 2nd heart attack was an eye opener for me. It showed me what healing I had done from the 1st one but it also showed me what healing had yet to be done. I have noticed that I have kept my distance over the last 3 months and I notice that I am very scared.
My dad has always worked very very hard. He would wake up at 3 or 4 in the morning and if he couldn't get back to sleep, he'd go to work. Rarely was he home before 7 p.m. I've always experienced him as hard working and able. When I got news about his first heart attack and went to see him in the ICU, what seemed to knock me flat on my ass was seeing my father lying down, flat on his back, pale. He could not sit up, he could not get his breath, he was no longer "able" as he always had been. He was no longer Super Dad...I know, I know, at some point our parents get knocked off that pedestal we put them on, it doesn't mean I was ready for it.
When mom and I talked this past week, the details she shared painted a picture of my dad's deterioration. Neither of them have been sharing much about the real details of what's been going. They have been traveling and seeing some family, it seems they've been trying to uphold that normalcy. I don't think that's working anymore.
My dad cannot breath on his own. He must have oxygen. He can't walk from their kitchen to their dining room (about 5 steps) without losing all his wind. He doesn't sleep more than 2 hours at night and cannot sleep in a bed b/c he can't breath. When he is unable to get his breath, he goes into panic attacks to the point of wetting his pants.
I want to change this for him. I want to make it better. I also know I can't. I don't want to watch my father die. I also know that's not possible either...well, I guess it is however it's not the option I'll take.
I've been absent for 3 months...mentally anyway. I'm always trying to trust that damn process and know that I am where I am for a good reason. Maybe the last 3 months has been me prepping me for being with my father as he goes through all of this. I am thankful that in the time that my self has been prepping my self that he is still on this earth. I'm going home this weekend and I am hopeful that I can be real, be myself and simply be with my father as he is.
My dad had a heart attack about 3 months ago. It was his 2nd one, the first happened about 1 1/2 yrs. ago. After the first one, the doctors told him his statistics, his chances, and told him about the changes needed in order to not become those statistics. He has made no changes, absolutely none. This 2nd heart attack was an eye opener for me. It showed me what healing I had done from the 1st one but it also showed me what healing had yet to be done. I have noticed that I have kept my distance over the last 3 months and I notice that I am very scared.
My dad has always worked very very hard. He would wake up at 3 or 4 in the morning and if he couldn't get back to sleep, he'd go to work. Rarely was he home before 7 p.m. I've always experienced him as hard working and able. When I got news about his first heart attack and went to see him in the ICU, what seemed to knock me flat on my ass was seeing my father lying down, flat on his back, pale. He could not sit up, he could not get his breath, he was no longer "able" as he always had been. He was no longer Super Dad...I know, I know, at some point our parents get knocked off that pedestal we put them on, it doesn't mean I was ready for it.
When mom and I talked this past week, the details she shared painted a picture of my dad's deterioration. Neither of them have been sharing much about the real details of what's been going. They have been traveling and seeing some family, it seems they've been trying to uphold that normalcy. I don't think that's working anymore.
My dad cannot breath on his own. He must have oxygen. He can't walk from their kitchen to their dining room (about 5 steps) without losing all his wind. He doesn't sleep more than 2 hours at night and cannot sleep in a bed b/c he can't breath. When he is unable to get his breath, he goes into panic attacks to the point of wetting his pants.
I want to change this for him. I want to make it better. I also know I can't. I don't want to watch my father die. I also know that's not possible either...well, I guess it is however it's not the option I'll take.
I've been absent for 3 months...mentally anyway. I'm always trying to trust that damn process and know that I am where I am for a good reason. Maybe the last 3 months has been me prepping me for being with my father as he goes through all of this. I am thankful that in the time that my self has been prepping my self that he is still on this earth. I'm going home this weekend and I am hopeful that I can be real, be myself and simply be with my father as he is.
posted by Kepola at
8:33 AM
1 Comments:
The loss of the parents we remember can be deep and difficult. I wish you peace on a difficult road. When you come back, I bet sitting still will be helpful.
By
Seafarer, at 9:20 PM
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