On Friday January 8, my dad walked into VGH. He had a fever, he had to go in. We were supposed to come over to visit and I was going to show him my tattoo. Saturday afternoon I recieved a text from my brother saying we should go in. “He looks terrible” were his words. I was so conflicted. He’s been in rough shape before but always bounced back. He was so tough. Around dinner time, I asked my mom and she said we better come down. So we stopped making dinner and head down. Back to the BMT/leukemia ward. Boy did I not miss that place. We walked around the curtain to his room and then it all hit me. He laid there, almost like a man I didn’t know. He was on level 9 oxygen and his breaths were short and shallow. He would periodically take off his mask and say something witty then fade away again. All of us kids got to the hospital and we had the opportunity to speak with him. He was heavily medicated but was able to speak. I sat down on his bed and the first thing he asked me was how my foot was. I smiled and said its okay. He faded away and I left the room and had a cry outside. What the fuck is happening?? I can’t believe this. I contained my emotions and went back and sat on his bed, nudging him awake. I said, “dad, I wanted to show you my tattoo”. He opened his eyes and looked down and smiled with a “that looks cool” and then that was it. When it was time to leave, I kissed his head and told him I loved him, he responded with a “I love you too”, even though it was a bit muffled under the oxygen mask. I’ll see you tomorrow, and that was it. The last words we spoke. Sadly, the next morning we were on to our way to the hospital when my mom called us crying on Bluetooth. We lost him. We missed seeing him alive. We drove in and went to the room. He was laying there in the bed. It wasn’t him. It was just a body. That view is not how I will remember my father but it will be ingrained in my mind. We left and I kissed his head and ran my hand through my lifeless dads hair. “Dad, I love you so much. Rest easy”. And that was it. My last time seeing my father.
The timing of my fathers death and the beginning of my final ivf could not of been at a tougher time. The emotional roller coaster, the high dosage of meds and grieving. All I can do is know my dad is looking down at me knowing that I’m doing my best at finally getting my dream of being a mother. Dad, I will do this for both of us. I know you wouldn’t of wanted me to give up on my dream.
Tomorrow is my fathers funeral or should we say celebration of life. It will be the hardest day of my life. I still can’t believe I can’t just pick up the phone and hear his voice. I will forever miss his witty comments, his love for 80’s music and his hugs.
“Dad, I’ll try my very best to make you proud. I promise”.