My Dad’s last visit.

 Vi lost my father in May of 2015. In a way we all knew which it was going, it was just the matter of when it was going to happen.

Each time, you lose someone, you feel you are prepared, when they ask you to let go, and I felt I was, but not on the level of what happen, that I was not prepared for.

Few days before my dad got sick, he stood one evening at my bed side. I am not sure if he meant to wake me up or just being there, but he did. I myself had just been through a horrible ordeal, so I believe he was just there to check on me, but when he said goodbye, I woke up as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over me.

I said, “What do you mean by goodbye, where are you leaving to?”

My dad smiled, “I want to go home now, I just want to come by to say goodbye before I left” Sleepy as I was, I mumble, “Can we talk about this in the morning?”

Seconds later I was fast asleep again.

In the morning I told my son to call grandpa. He was a bit surprised, but call him and came back and hour later, “Grandpa is fine, he will call you later, what’s wrong? “I didn’t want to tell him, because it didn’t matter right?

My dad called later, he was fresh, and not sick at all, I was very confused.

The next day I didn’t hear from my dad, but my son called the following day, told me that grandpa was in the hospital. I tried to get hold on my brother without any luck. The following day Sunday, I was able to get hold on my brother, and I cried like no tomorrow, I already knew way things was going.

My brother tried to cheer me up, by saying, “it was just a bad dream.” I told him, “No this is real this time, he is going to leave us.”

The first couple of days, my dad was really sick, and when we called, the nurse said, “he is just sleeping all the time.”

 I told her to bring the phone up to my father’s ear, so I could tell him to get better. At first, she refused, but she also understood, even if a person is awake but non responsive, they might be able to hear everything around them.

On second day, after my sister had been at the hospital and both my son and I had called to speak to him, my dad finally woke up.

The following day he was better, actually so well he could hold the phone on his own.

Wednesday they moved him into another room, and I talked with my brother again, “See he is doing much better, sis, he will pull through just like last time” again, I knew this was the end.

I called my father right after, and we talked for a little while, in the end he said, “I know you have stopped who ever comes to pick me up twice, but this time, can I please go?” I told him if he wanted, he could. I knew I could stop it, but I wouldn’t if he really wanted to leave” He said, “Please, let me leave this time”

I told him he need to know the graduation was Friday, so if he wanted to be here, he had to request it.” He understood.

I told him I wish he could be here a bit longer, but I also understood why he was ready to go home.

The following day Thursday, I didn’t call him, and in the evening at 10 pm he left us to go home.

It was hard to know, even though, I already knew this a week before he died, even days before he got sick, but this is not the end of the story. This had been a long journey for him. I thought it was the end, that now he was out flying among the stars, visiting places that he only dream about.

June came, then July and August, Fall and winter knock on the door. Christmas eve I was sitting waiting for the dinner to be done, while doing homework, reading American history. All the sudden I hear my dad. “Why didn’t they come and pick me up?” I looked up from my book and saw on a distance as if he was sitting on the couch in his living room, waiting to be picked up for Christmas dinner at my sister.

 I was in orderly surprise, and I asked him what he was doing? The feeling of lost, being left alone, forgotten, sad, came flooding over me like a huge wave. I realize my dad didn’t know he was dead, he had been sitting waiting to go up to my sister for Christmas dinner, for over 2 hours, but no one came to pick him up.

With tears running down my face I said, “But dad, don’t you know what happen?” He looked up as if he was searching for me, but couldn’t find me, just connect. He said, “No I have been trying to call all of you, but the phone is not working anyone, no one is picking up, I don’t understand”

I felt horrible, have I left my dad back in May, should I have told them no, so he could have gotten a last chance, why didn’t anyone come to pick him up.

I gathered myself and asked him, “Can you remember when you were in the hospital?” He paused, “Yes I remember lying down, and then the next moment I work up here and was at home, as if the whole time at the hospital was just an odd dream” I asked him, “Have anyone been there? Have you seen anyone?” He said no.   

At that moment I knew what have happened, and I knew what I needed to do. I felt my heart breaking into millions of pieces, but it had to be done.

I took a deep breath and started to tell him the whole story, what have happened and that we buried his body back in May.

I told him, he was supposed to go on all the wonderful trips around the world that he never made before his body passed away.

He asked me, “But how do I do that? So, you are telling me, no one is coming to pick me up for Christmas dinner?” How could I tell that to my dad, how do you do that?

My dad went to his bed, and I could feel how he was crying, wiping tears away from his face, feeling abandon and very very lost.

I made a request, to get someone to come and help him, and within short time I had someone here to answer my request.

The following morning, I went to look for my dad, but he was gone, and I prayed he made home.

He hasn’t reached out before her in 2019, where he came by, and told me to tell my big brother and my sister he had been trying to get connected with them, but they couldn’t hear him. He felt light and compared to when I saw him 7 months after his dead, waiting for someone to come and pick him up for Christmas.