The sound of my wife's voice...
can break my heart into a million pieces. I feel so helpless as she hears the bad news on the phone and her voice cracks as she speaks. We race to pack the car. I walk the neighbors dog one last time as I promised I would do. We scramble to the auto parts store to buy an air filter so we can get better gas mileage on the way up. Even in times of emergency, we can't help our frugality. It forces me to learn how to change an air filter. We decide to wait until we need gas before we have lunch. It'll probably save us some time on the trip. My sister in law said she missed her grandfather by an hour. Every minute counts.
Debbie makes plans for her team at school. We've gone through this before with Ron and her coworkers at her previous school made her feel guilty for not being prepared. She makes sure this time no one will have anything to complain about. Thankfully, her new team is much more caring and compassionate.
It's a six hour drive and we have a lot of time to kill. I tell Debbie to call her family over seas to give her something to do. Emotional roller coaster seems like a mild description of how we feel. We need to be strong once we get there. If it's his time to go, then we should let him go peacefully.
She answers her phone again. This time it's her cousin. They think he's in his last hours. We have to hurry. She can't hold back her tears again. We decide against dropping Norah off at the house first. We are less than 15 minutes away. Debbie would be crushed if she misses him...
I drop her off at the emergency room so she can get to him as fast as she can. I scramble to find a parking spot, thinking Norah can hold herself for a few minutes. If not, the mess is worth dealing with later to save the time.
I work through the maze of the building and wait for the elevator. It opens up and the sea of familiar faces are camped out in the elevator lobby. Everyone has the same glum look on their face. There are few friendly hugs, but mostly just a gloomy dazed atmosphere. I wait for my turn to see him. We're limited to 2 at a time and one of the aunts is constantly praying to him. I greet him and he barely cracks open his eyes. It seems he recognizes me and tries to greet me back. It's hard work though so he shuts them and tries to rest. The machines next to him are beeping and sound like an air compressor. I gently stroke his head and hands, it seem to help him breathe better. He looks like he is sleeping but having a bad dream. I feel like he just wants to be soothed.
My time is up and the rest of the family rotates through to see him. The guys watch football to kill time. It's like a bittersweet family reunion. Visiting hours are over and the nurses can't wait to let you know it. There must be some sort of desensitizing class they take to get so bitchy.
Debbie makes plans for her team at school. We've gone through this before with Ron and her coworkers at her previous school made her feel guilty for not being prepared. She makes sure this time no one will have anything to complain about. Thankfully, her new team is much more caring and compassionate.
It's a six hour drive and we have a lot of time to kill. I tell Debbie to call her family over seas to give her something to do. Emotional roller coaster seems like a mild description of how we feel. We need to be strong once we get there. If it's his time to go, then we should let him go peacefully.
She answers her phone again. This time it's her cousin. They think he's in his last hours. We have to hurry. She can't hold back her tears again. We decide against dropping Norah off at the house first. We are less than 15 minutes away. Debbie would be crushed if she misses him...
I drop her off at the emergency room so she can get to him as fast as she can. I scramble to find a parking spot, thinking Norah can hold herself for a few minutes. If not, the mess is worth dealing with later to save the time.
I work through the maze of the building and wait for the elevator. It opens up and the sea of familiar faces are camped out in the elevator lobby. Everyone has the same glum look on their face. There are few friendly hugs, but mostly just a gloomy dazed atmosphere. I wait for my turn to see him. We're limited to 2 at a time and one of the aunts is constantly praying to him. I greet him and he barely cracks open his eyes. It seems he recognizes me and tries to greet me back. It's hard work though so he shuts them and tries to rest. The machines next to him are beeping and sound like an air compressor. I gently stroke his head and hands, it seem to help him breathe better. He looks like he is sleeping but having a bad dream. I feel like he just wants to be soothed.
My time is up and the rest of the family rotates through to see him. The guys watch football to kill time. It's like a bittersweet family reunion. Visiting hours are over and the nurses can't wait to let you know it. There must be some sort of desensitizing class they take to get so bitchy.
posted by Conrad at
10:53 PM
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