I was in my early 20's before the feeling came over me that my dad was just a guy.
He was doing everything in his power to make sure that there was food in our bellies and a roof over our head and the gravity of it all never hit me until my parents decided to refinance our house and he worked like crazy to try to fix everything the adjuster said to fix before the bank would do so.
I could only aspire to my father's drive. He used to hold three jobs at one time - he was an electrician at the ship yard, a pizza delivery guy, and a volunteer at the fire department. On top of that, he was active on the ball field when my brothers and myself played, he fixed lawnmowers, and cars.
I'm so flipping lazy compared to my dad.
One day when playing in an exhibition game of "Cabbage Ball" or whatever that was, he started complaining of pain and weakness and collapsed. I was a teenager at the time and I didn't realize what was going on until I saw him writhing in pain in the back seat of our van.
He was having what would be the first of many heart attacks.
Over the years, his body may have been weakening, but he literally refused to let it stop him. This was part of his downfall.
When my mom passed away, my dad became more subdued and got to the point where he often had to use a walker to assist him. He was a doting grandfather and always wanted to spend time with my little girl. The last really good day he had was spent pushing her around on his walker as we looked at vintage cars. My little girl loved her paw-paw after many years of being afraid of him.
Things were always being asked of him and he finally wore himself out enough to the point that he continued helping people with rides, car work, and whatever was asked of him. He was always in and out of the hospital and I would sometimes skip out of work so I could go visit him. He was always weak, but smiling and joking. He was always in good spirits.
I was called and told that my dad was in the hospital again, the previous time being less than three months prior. I couldn't leave work early, so I walked over when I got off and the doctor told me that they had to do a procedure and I could not see him until the morning, but he seemed to have pneumonia and my dad was expected to recover.
I was getting ready for bed when I received a phone call from an 819 number. I immediately recognized it as the hospital. My dad's nurse was calling to tell me that my father's condition had worsened and that I needed to gather whoever I could and get to the hospital.
I sped to Ocean Springs from Gulfport, calling everyone who would want to know and picked my brother up on the way. When we got there we were told that they did not expect him to survive this hospitalization. He was stable, so we could go home.
Now this is the part of the story where I must apologize because I am terrible at time frames. This entire period is kind of a blur for me to begin with.
Since he was right next door from where I worked, I would walk over to visit. I would see a sight that is, frankly too familiar. He was unconscious. There was a tube breathing for him, feeding him, and letting him urinate. He was unresponsive as I talked to him and each time I met with the Dr. he would tell me that things were not good. He was under constant watch by the nurses who were visibly affected by our love as we talked to him.
We all knew that he would soon leave us, but we just did not want to believe it. I hadn't even spoken to him in days, as it was raining terribly the day we were supposed to meet in the park so he could visit with my little girl.
One day I walked to the hospital and was told that he will likely pass away in the night. I walked back to work, told the acting manager that I needed some time and cried in the bathroom.
It was so much to handle. First I lost my mother, then my mother in law, and now I would truly be an orphan all within a few years.
Surprisingly, my dad had taken a turn for the better. He didn't pass away that night and in fact he was awake. My visit with him was a somber one for the most part. He couldn't talk since the tubes were still in his mouth, but he was able to shake his head and nod. I didn't stay long that first day so he could rest. He was alive!
After a while, they had my dad on dialysis to try to get his kidneys functioning again and they put him in a normal room. My daughter was able to come and visit, playing with her paw paw and dancing. We were able to spend so much time together when I could.
My dad was doing so well that they thought he might be out in a few days. My Uncle was by my father's side as much as he could be along with my other uncle from out of town as well as our extended family. Having never told my Uncle about how my beliefs had changed over the years, he asked me if I felt confused - a reference to how much of a miracle this all was. To be completely honest, I wasn't. But I still didn't answer because I didn't think it would serve much of a purpose.
I had to surrender our dog during this time. He was nipping at my daughter, attacking our cat, and destroyed my apartment - things I'll go in length about in a different blog. I was a mess because I really didn't want to do it and no one I knew could take him in. As I was leaving, I received a call from my Uncle explaining that the dialysis wasn't working and he would need dialysis to live; however, if he continued to get dialysis his heart would go out. In either scenario, my dad was going to pass away.
My Uncle had offered to hospice my father until he passed away and I felt that it would be appropriate. He made the proper arrangements and that Saturday morning he would take him home.
I visited my father that evening and spoke to him for what would be the last time. There was a huge elephant in the room considering that we all knew my father was not long for this world. I gave him a big hug and kiss. Told him I loved him and thanked him.
We were planning on continuing with our lives past this until the day came. My daughter was invited to a friend of mine daughter's birthday party at a pool. We woke up early and I put my baby girl in her bathing suit and packed a little bag with clothes and dressed for swimming when my Uncle calls me to tell me that just moments earlier, my father had passed away.
I called around to tell as many people as I could as I threw clothes over the baby's bathing suit and I rushed to the hospital. God only knows why I was in such a hurry since I was basically going to see a body... It is weird to think about it.
I arrived and as soon as I got off the elevator, I was right back in that unusual mode where everyone around you knows you need support. Hugs, handshakes and backrubs from family, friends, nurses - all as I tried not to fall to pieces.
I went into the room and he looked like he was sleeping peacefully for the first time in years and without the snoring. I don't recall what I said or if I cried and we all went to my Uncle's house to try and figure things out.
This will bring us to the next part.
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