Just got off the phone with my dad, who’s currently in the Emergency Room, not for Covid-19 but a plethora of other health issues. Earlier today, my cousin found him half alive. He uncontrollably urinated and defecated himself, and the apartment reeked of it. He hasn’t eaten for two days. The ashtray and cup are shattered on the floor. He couldn’t move his legs. My cousin in law replaced my duties as a son to remove my dad’s clothes soaked in discharge to bathe him. (Just how noble can someone be? I honestly might not have been able to do the same had I been there. He’s a father of two, in his 50’s, a macho man, a successful restaurant owner with numerous real estates. He isn’t even related to my father by blood, yet attended to him like a nurse. I have no way of ever thanking him and my cousin. They’re heroes.)
Having consistently checked in and out of the ER for the past few months, doctors expect my father to leave this world at any second now. I’ve mentally prepared myself to take ‘the phonecall.’ Maybe in the middle of the night or while I’m cooking up some dinner. “Hey Colin, he’s gone…”
The worse thing? I’m in California, and he lives in New Hampshire.
Had my cousin not go to pick up my dad for his doctor’s appointment. He might have left us already. During our phone call 20 minutes ago, I asked him why he wasn’t eating. In a fragile and scratchy voice, he said he didn’t have an appetite. He saw no point. I get it. Sitting on the sofa for two days straight without moving or eating, knowing that you’ll be dying any second can make you a little less enthusiastic for food. Or life. I can’t imagine what the past two days felt like for him. And I don’t know where he finds the courage to face death alone. As many times as we can call him, nobody is physically by his side.
My relationship with my dad has been apathetic. It’s too long of a story to tell. All I can say is, I have not been the best son and all I want and can do right now is fly over to see him one last time. As he was drawing up his will, they asked him for his last wish. He said, “I just want to see my son.” I hear things like these in movies all the time, but when it’s real, and it’s happening to you, you don’t fucking know what to do. I was hoping for the vaccine to mature quicker so I can at least have somewhat of a plan in sight. But that seems impossible, given that my father’s health has deteriorated to the point of not being able to walk or talk. All I can do now is face time with him, partially fulfilling his last wish to see his son.
Honestly, I’m not sure if I ever develop a strong emotional attachment to my father. Besides blurry snippets of him carrying me around during kindergarten, I don’t remember many fond memories of him. Now I rarely call him. Even when he calls me, I’d be too busy and dismissive. Or easily let out a temper. But when I realized that this is it. When I saw this photo below. When I thought about what he’s been going through alone, how he felt while sitting back himself, I wish that pain transferred to me instead.
Due to a combination of organ failures, the nurse is suggesting putting the plug on him with medication to reduce his pain and the responsibility on the family. Should we take that step? I’m conflicted.
I don’t know what will happen or when it’s going to happen or what I’ll do or feel. I’ve never experienced the death of a loved one. I wonder why we’re put on this world to go through this type of suffering. It seems the more love your given, the more pain you need to prepare yourself for. Getting a new puppy is so exciting. But the pain of putting it to sleep might even outweigh the joy of inviting him into your life in the first place. I can’t wait till I meet my wife, yet the thought of spending half a life with her and departing from her scares the shit out of me.
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This post was previously published on Medium.
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Photo credit: Tim Mossholder on Unsplash