Well, it's the Monday after Fathers Day Sunday and the entire day is going to take some getting over for me. We all got up early, my daughter and I made my husband french toast and coffee which he ate in bed (at my 5 year olds insistance), then we gathered the baby up and drove the hour to my parents home.
On arrival Mum was still showering Dad, he can no longer do this himself as he is too weak from his illness. I could hear shuffling and bumping coming from the bathroom and the tell tale oxygen tubing feeding under the bathroom door told me Dad was in there. Struggling to keep his pride in tact as his wife got him presentable for the impending flow of family members and sad faced friends.
As I nursed my baby and waited quietly for Mum to finish her daily wrestle with Dad and the bath towel the door bell rang. One of Dad's oldest friends and his wife had come to visit Dad before they journed overseas to visit ailing family. I welcomed them in and sat them down, they appoligised 100 times for interupting Fathers Day. They need not have, this was Dad's best mate for over 30 years and his contribution to our family and his constant assistance to my parents was worthy of a medal. We all waited....my husband occupied our daughter elsewhere to reduce noise in the house.......finally Mum emerges with Dad shuffling behind her and trailing behind him his familiar tubing. Dad weakly shuffles out behind Mum and tries to sit down without falling, he is small, grey faced, sunken chested and totally breathless. The shower routine really tires him out but being such a proud clean man he refuses to miss it one single day. Upon seeing the horrible change in Dad his mate nearly bursts into tears. Only a few months ago my Dad was a large strong and healthy man with a head of black hair and not one out of place. He had a booming voice, a cheeky grin and large hands, ready to cradle the newest baby of the family. This sudden downhill slide in his appearance has shocked us all, now it was his friends turn to be shocked. He quickly spoke to Dad and explained he would be overseas for a few weeks and back home before he knew it. We all knew standing around listening to this it sounded as if he didnt expect to see Dad alive again. They then left, I really think it was too much for them and I hate to think of the tears that were shed outside in their car on the way home.
The day didnt really get any better for poor Dad. The morphine he takes so he can cope with showering sends him into la la land for the rest of the day. As a result he barely spoke to anyone all day. When we sat him at the lunch table he was unable to hold his own fork and kept muttering to his lap, so my brother and husband quickly put him bad to bed to avoid my sisters and I bursting into tears of pity at the sight of his degeneration. I am not sure who the pity is for, Dad or us.
Dad spent the rest of his last fathers day in bed in a half sleep half hallucinogenic stage. He spoke to my nephews once and told them that no matter what life held for them they were to look after their mothers well. Dad has seen 3 out of 4 of his childrens marriages disolve and he worries about his two eldest daughters. I have the only surviving marriage in the family and I seem to be the strongest mentally, so Dad doesnt worry about my home life at all. He does worry about how I will cope with losing him as he is my best mate. I know because he has mentioned it to Mum a few times.
The afternoon arrived and we all had to pack up and leave Mum and Dad to themselves. Both my sisters and their families (all grown up now) left and then my little family of four made tracks. Luckily my brother (in his 40's) who still lives at home is there to help Mum when he can, but he seems to be out a lot. I dont think he is mentally ready to see Dad in the last stages of his life, but Mum needs him there for support, physical if nothing else. My brother is a tall, strong man a lot like my Dad used to be in his prime. Dad is 76 now and I guess we are very lucky to have had him this long. So many people lose parents so young. This thought does not help me with the fact I will lose my Dad very soon and his death will be horiffic. His lung fluid will continue to flood into his body until he drowns.....
To see this man who has always been a tower of strength and "as fit as a malley bull" waste away to nothing is killing me, I want to cry all the time.
I often cry when I am in the shower at night, then when my little girl walks in to talk to me she thinks the tears are shower water and I dont have to re-explain the whole Grandad is really sick thing again. I hope I dont lose it when Dad dies because it will scare my kids so much to see their Mum fall in a heap. They need to have that strong parent to trust and lean on in hard times like I did, I dont want to seem breakable to them.