my father

[Drunk Monk]

I'm not sure which is worse really as my rather long and drawn out experience surely lessened the final blow or something sudden, but I've lived with this sword of damocles dangling over my head for over a decade now. Those final months at the nursing home were so bittersweet. At first, my mom and I would visit together, but over time, I would go on my own every week to spend some time with my Dad. My mom spent most every morning with him there, and I would see her name on the sign-in book. I'd visit my dad after work, after wrasslin the commute from a more oblique direction from my usual commute, and that facility was very peaceful. I would get there as they were corralling all the patients up for dinner, and I'd find my dad in his wheelchair usually in the activities room or lined up in the hall with other patients. The staff there was amazingly compassionate - it would burn me out so quickly to work in that environment. So much death. My dad outlived his roommates. I'd steal him away for a bit - usually we went to the atrium where there was a lovely bunny hutch around a massive old oak - very relaxing. During the winter, we would find an empty room to tuck into - the dining hall, the tv room. I'd chat at him - tell him everything I could remember of note from the week prior. I'd ask him if anyone visited him, who he was feeling, if the food was ok. And I'd tell him not to worry about mom or me, that we were fine, and that I loved him. Each time I left, I knew it might be the last time I saw him alive. And I remember often thinking that there would be some solace in the fact that I'd never have to go back to that nursing home, not that it was a bad place, it was actually a very nice facility, clean and compassionate, but there was so much death in everyone's eyes. I was planning to see him the evening after he passed away. My mom had been giving me daily updates from about the weekend on, and it felt like it would be soon, but not so much that I had to hurry, to change my schedule. So I missed a final goodbye, which is somewhat regrettable, but it's not like I hadn't said goodbye every freakin week for eight months prior.

And I am very glad not to have to go back there.