last week daddy had been sick. I ad gotten a phone call from the care home saying he had a very high fever and they assumed he had aspirated which was the cause it not only the fever but the raspy, rattling chest noise. Each time he gets sick I am preparing myself for the end of this journey that we have been on with him for the last 24 years. I pray that his pain and discomfort are slight and that if it be ...it is quick, for all involved (dad, the care home aides that work with him and us... me). It is an exhausting time when he is sick, because I feel such pressure being the only one to do anything with him. I don't call any family.. they all live far away and only one (my aunt - daddy youngest sister) that keeps in contact with me. so it sits with me. I wrote this last week while sitting ... once again, with daddy.
He is better now (or at least he has had no fever) and the next few days again will tell if he is actually "better better" or if there will be another round of meds, if the chest has cleared... until the next time he aspirates or an illness goes through the care home.
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Once again I am sitting here listening to your breathing, so rough and ragged… your bed humming from the weight of you on the mattress, a Frank Sinatra movie on the tv and the day to day noises of the care home. Your spirits are a bit higher than they have been other times but you are still sick.
Yesterday afternoon I had a call from the care home that you were not well. You had a high temperature and your breathing was raspy. They think you possibly aspirated so there was a call to the doctor and medications ordered as well as the nebulizer. So we wait to see what the meds will do. And this morning when I got here to hear your fever was down and you ate a bit at breakfast, so we sat, I read the bible to you, I prayed for you and I sat and we watched an old Dean Stockwell movie and you look so frail and tired.
Now it is afternoon and you are back to bed (you look exhausted). I tried to get you to sing a bit (something that you love to do) and you didn’t want to. You said you wanted to sleep for a while.
So here I sit…
listening…
praying...
remembering...
Reminiscing in my head. Thinking of all the times we were riding in the semi’s, eating at McDonald’s (and me ordering those extra thick chocolate milkshakes that you hated to hear me try to suck up!), the songs we would sing, the driving lessons, the shopping mall adventures, the laughing over the burnt pudding and fish cakes.
My memories are all so vivd, and yet the one thing I cannot remember for the life of me is your voice.
I cant hear your laughter and calling me “jo”… I wish I could. I would love to hear you roll over and say to me right now “Jo, lets sing some Merle Haggard.” Or “lets go for a drive and see what we can find.” I can't hear you and haven't been able to for years and I miss that. I can't wait until we are in heaven and we can talk... two sided conversations!
I love you, daddy...
I miss you...
