Remembrance of my Father

Our daughter had just had our second grandchild on Thanksgiving. I was able to visit them in the hospital on Fri and Sat. On Sunday I got up a little bit late to eat breakfast around 10am when the phone rang, and it was my brother. He said our father was not responding. The doctors had taken him off of Chemo about half way thru the month, and they told him that it wasn't working. Now before I could even get there to see my father he was in a coma like state. The Hospice nurse told my brother our father would be dead within 24 hours. I was planning on going to see them on Monday, but I felt the urgency to finish packing. I found a friend in our church to play the piano for me that day. I remembered to bring a dress. I was somewhat worried to drive that day because it was a holiday weekend. I was blessed because all of the traffic was on the other side of the highway. I said a prayer to help me get there safely. I arrived around 3p.m. When I came over to the chair my dad was sleeping in, his eyes were shut. He could not talk to me. His breathing was rapid, and he had a high fever of 104*. I could not tell if he could hear me. I held his hand, and I squeezed it a bit. He squeezed my hand back. I told him that I was there, and that I loved him. I told him that my family loved him too. My brother and his wife were there when I arrived. My youngest brother came later. My youngest brother could not believe our dad was like that because just the night before he spoke to him. He joked around with him. He said he was there to take him to his golf tournament. Dad said he wished he could go, and then he laughed. My youngest brother came closer to our dad's chair he leaned on the chair, and our dad woke up briefly. We all gathered around him. We gave him water. I showed him pictures of the baby, and pictures of me. We tried to keep him awake, but he went back to sleep, and we could not get him to wake up again. We were all crying. We wanted so much to tell him goodbye. Our mom told how the day had started out. She had fixed him breakfast. She got him in the wheelchair and took him to the table. She was helping him with his medications when he got all agitated and disorientated. She tryed to get him back into his chair by herself, and found she couldn't. She called my brother, and they couldn't get him in. She called her Bishop, and he sent her neighbor to help. Our dad was in so much agony of pain that it was near impossible to get him in the rocker recliner chair. My youngest brother called the hospice nurse to see what things could be done. She said that there was nothing. He wanted to know if our dad could have a IV for fluids. She advised that he not have that because it would make things worse. She came by to give us counsel. She told us what to look for when it got closer to the end. Our other brother who lives far away couldn't be there, but he is the oldest brother. He was on the phone talking to the Hospice nurse. We were all gathered in the front room listening. My brother on the phone offered a blessing of prayer for my dad. It's a prayer given to those who are at the end of their life. It was a prayer to God to release our dad from his life. It was the hardest prayer my brother ever had to offer. It was truely a spiritual moment. After the prayer we said goodbye to our brother, and we went back into the room where our father was. The nurse checked his vitals. She showed us how to use those sponge suckers to get fluid into him. Our father started choking, so we never tryed it again. We put lip gloss on him for dry lips. I stayed up as long as I could. My mom said she would be with our dad that night. During the night I woke up, and I could not get back to sleep. I went into check on him, and I was hearing a rattling sound. I asked my mother what that sound was. My mother told me it was the lungs filling up with fluid. I sat down by his chair, and held his hand the rest of the night. My mom tried to get some sleep, but she could not sleep. My dad sounded terrible. His breathing was so labored. It is an awful sound. When I squeezed his hand, he did not respond. I stayed close to my fathers chair. I held his hand the whole day. I wanted to sing him a song. God Be With You Till We Meet Again, but I choked up. I could not sing or even say the words. I went to the piano to play the Hymn for him on the piano. When I was done with that, I returned to hold his hand. My father's pulse was rapid, and his hands were so hot. I put lotion on them, and it evaporated quickly. The sound of my father's breathing was so hard for me to listen too. At the end, a lot of fluid and flem came up dad choked, the lungs filled up at that moment. Dad tried to take another breath, but he could not breath. He tryed to take another breath and his breathing was stopped abruptly, his heart stopped beating at 3:57 p.m. After he had passed away it was quiet. I told him that I loved him in case he could hear me now. I was looking at his peaceful face, and I noticed there was a tear in his eye. When I told the others we all started crying again. I think he was trying to say he didn't want to go, and that he loved all of us dearly. I am so thankful that I could be with him till the end.