An interesting experience while visiting Dad…
As you know, he’s dying, and when I went to visit him today he seemed so small and frail. Like a child. It’s as if I could crush his body with a slight squeeze of my grip.
Dad sat up. I sat next to him. Gave him a hug. He said, “why are you doing that” and I said, “because I love you.” He then said “I love you”, leaned back and slept. I so much wanted to cuddle up next to him, like a kid. I did not, mostly because I would crush him. Instead, I felt like Dad, I lifted his head to place a pillow beneath it and covered him with blankets.
I sat next to him and began to cry.
I then thought, “why am I crying”. I know that people cry during these process, but I wanted to understand my cry. Am I mourning? Am I in relief? Am I happy? What was signaling the release?
The duration of the moment was short. It seemed to go away the minute I started wondering about it. I discerned that this cry is not a sad cry, but a happy cry. Happy that soon would he no longer be in pain. Happy that soon I wouldn’t have to be in that room cleaning up his soiled clothes. Happy that soon this moment would pass. It was kind of a — “there’s light at the end of the tunnel, and I just have to hold out a bit longer” kinda cry.
I’ve been grieving and mourning for years. My dad stopped being the dad I miss every day years ago. Instead, I’ve watched him descend into a fate he never wanted to meet. And, to know that moment is almost done for him, that’s truly gratifying.
The jerks that bring about tears went away. The sniffles stopped. I walked over to him. Gave him a kiss on the forehead and whispered into his ears — “I love you, and goodbye”.