(
cont'd from first post)
So… … …a week and a half into the Hospice-process…my brother was sitting with him, one day, when he (
my Dad) grew angry at the
lousy service he was receiving from my brother (
my brother & his wife were not preparing food as well as my Dad thought
appropriate)…
My brother, in defense, said – “Do you even know why I, and everyone-else is here?”.
My father, in utter confusion at the response, replied – “No.”
My brother said – “You’re dying!”
Shock filled my father’s face…and, he said – “God Is Able!”
My bro’ responded – “Maybe so – but – if God doesn’t do something quick – You’re going to die!”
My dad tried to demonstrate
his Belief…and failed, miserably…into my brother’s arms…
From that moment…my father began failing at an accelerated pace.
I came to see him the following evening, after work…
My bro’ and sis’ were both in the room with him…
They were both seated across the room from his bed…talking, and talking to him…
I walked to his bedside, took his right hand, and stood beside him…while they continued talking.
One of them said – “Daddy… All three of your
hoodlums are here…”
He didn’t seem to notice me…
He looked at them as if to question the last comment…
My bro’ said – “All three of your children are here. Me, R’M’, and
WanDash is holding your hand.”
I was looking at him…and, when attention was called to me…his eyes came up to meet mine, and he gasped and jerked… … …as if I were… …
… … (
his greatest fear…?) …I don’t know what… …?
He was definitely surprised/shocked/frightened…
…I don’t know.
That was, literally, the last time I had any kind of contact with him…aside from ‘being there’.
For the next two days…every time I was at his bedside, his eyes were shut, and his breathing seemed to consume the whole of his attention, effort
and being.
Sunday night…very late…I received a call – “You better come over, now…”
I did…
I sat at the foot of his bed, in a room filled with all members of the immediate family…as he went through some extreme demonstrations of
unbelievably exhaustive breathing.
I don’t see how he…in any state of consciousness…could have been cognizant of our presence or conversation/s…but…
Two hours into this exercise…I stepped outside to smoke.
My brother joined me…to talk.
He let me know that he questioned
some aspects of our dogma…but…did not broach the subject of any of my questions…and…after
about 20 minutes outside…we returned to the room.
Upon returning…we immediately noticed a dramatic change in the breathing exercises…
They had slowed markedly…
Within 30 minutes, he’d taken his last.
After my mother took the first couple of minutes…saying “
Goodbye”, and “
I wasn’t ready for this”…I took his hand and shed
tears and wished that all his Hopes…were true
…and…my entire life of war with this man…resolved to Love and Regret.
Not so much Regret that I had done him wrong, or wished I’d done better…but – Regret that his beliefs and wishes…had…ended…here.
So sorry that, at some point, he’d had to bow his neck…when he’d believed & proclaimed (
to the top of his voice) otherwise…
All of this…
…to wonder…
Is it… …
…possible… …
…that
someone… … …exiting this life
…would be capable of
…recording/dictating their thoughts, impressions, revelations, experiences
…through the final stages &/or moments… ?
“Hospice” has put together a compelling story of ‘what goes on’
…but…
I did not see it panning out, in reality, as described in their materials.
Maybe there’s something that would prohibit such a
documentary…
I don’t know…
Then again – it’s also possible that such data would make no difference…
What do you think?
Thanks for reading.
WanDash
edit on 7/11/2014 by WanDash because: misspelled
edit on 7/11/2014 by WanDash because: spaces - the final frontier