It's just my Dad and I in the hospital tonight. I'm gonna tell you what this is like because no one ever told me and I wish they had. It could be hours or it could be days but he is dying. I read this short book called "Gone From My Sight" which lays out step by step every aspect of the dying process. It gave me great comfort.
This is natural. In some ways, it is as beautiful as childbirth. That's not what the book said. Just the overwhelming emotion I was left with.
He stopped eating almost entirely about a month ago and stopped speaking 4 days ago. I am very fortunate and grateful that he and I had a tear-filled conversation on the last day he will ever speak. It was so beautiful I don't even have words for it. He had withdrawn from me two months ago but that is exactly what dying people do. I just didn't know and I doubt he did either.
His eyelids remain slightly open and you can see him looking around as if in a dream state. To me, he is likely reliving fond memories and reconciling any items left undone. He moves when I speak to him but I believe it's just the familiar voice of a loved one that causes him to stir. He is not truly present. A few toes left on earth and the rest of him lifting away from me towards his next chapter.
He is not gone. He will not be gone. He will just be gone from my sight.
If anyone had told me that the week my Dad died would be one of the best of my life I would've thought they were crazy or sociopathic. But that's what this has been.
I've never felt closer to him. I have never felt closer to God. To hold his hand as he dies is life come full circle. He was the first to hold my hand and I will be the last to hold his.
I have done my duty as his Son and he did a great job as my father.
Don't get me wrong. It hurts. Terribly. But only because the bond runs so deep.
I love you Dad. It's OK for you to go.