blog: watching Dad die

listening to a wonderful book ("My Wife Said You May Want to Marry Me") has prompted me to visit a powerful moment in my life

about 5 years ago (2018), i spent about a week witnessing & attending my dad's demise in a prestigious hospital

hooked up to tubes & fluids; hardly conscious through much of it; we did have some spectacular moments, altho there is something sort of shrouded 

i recall his difficulty saying he loves me (usually simple for people)

hard to ignore, internally, that i'd really disappointed/humiliated him, & here he was, laid bare for us to watch as he let the chips fall

near his end he told my older brother to "take care of your mom"

we stepped out of the room to discuss pulling the plug, accepting the situation as hopeless & imminent

we returned, making eye-contact that said too much -- the first goodbye

in his final hours, i spoon-fed him ice cubes of Sprite, & he'd say "chip me," always maintaining his humor

he told the nurse "i farted;" then when we were done laughing, "i farted again"

my dad was awesome, rad, lovely...

we sent him off holding hands, kissing his head & hair, & seeing his breathing body become still, as the machine's beep told us its own story

then it was over -- we gathered ourselves & walked downstairs, leaving the hospital

​​​​​​​before we reached the door -- a phone call, asking if we'd donate his eyes to give others vision -- of course we said yes

then walked into the streets -- the bitter cold -- shivering & maintaining composure

​​​​​​​across the street at a bar we toasted Bob, Dad, & to his new journey, & our own

miss him