Friday, January 19, 2007

Death is not easy...

I am sorry my posts have been fairly benign. This is why.

My father is dying. He left my family when I was twelve. He left us in New York, flew away to Alaska, and left us behind.

I saw him when his mother called me in college (I was 21). "Your Dad is coming to visit us in Florida. I'll pay for you to come down." I spent a week with him. Then in 1991, he invited me to Alaska. I went. He showed me a world he found to be beautiful. He was right.

In 2000 he came to NY and handed us his Living Will and some family heirlooms. He knew he had Alzheimers at the time but he did not tell us. He got lost several times on the way , as he drove. I asked him to return that fall for my wedding.

September 30, 2000, he gave me away to Mark. He didn't seem interested in tracking down friends who might love to see him. I realize now he was probably unsure he would be able to find his way.

In 2005 he came to us from Alaska, in the clasp of intermediate Alzheimers. His sister, a wonderful woman who had provided him with a home and love since his arrival in Alaska so many year ago, had health issues as well and could no longer care for him.

Today he is dying. It is 2007. I have spent perhaps twenty full days with my father since 1973. And now people are calling me asking me to make the decision to stop medication, since he will no longer swallow. I, who am a stranger, have power over my father's life.

I called his sister, who is also facing Alzheimers, and who just recently watched over her son as he died of cancer. She tells me tonight: "Let him go."

Let him go.

Oh, God.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

I had to let my brother go,many years ago. It is not a easy thing to do,but if we can give this gift to a beloved pet, we can do the same for our family. It will be the hardest thing you will ever do, I know it was for me. If you can make his passing easier it will be the greatest gift you could give him. I wish I could hug you and tell you its ok .Tears bcats

georg said...

We had to let Meme go ( my gram) when she stopped swallowing. I don't believe in torture, and it can be to force feed them. Meme had Alzheimer and Parkinson, and was herself rarely indeed. I saw only a flash in my last visit to her, when she cussed out the woman in the hospital bed next to her for healing faster than she was.

Horribly, you could only see flashes of who he used to be even if you spend all the time you could with him now. I know it hurts, but so will forcing him to stay. I agree, you would know what to do if he was an old cat.

Stick your face in cat fur- it really helps you feel better. Lots of hugs!!

Anonymous said...

It's hard. Every step of the way, it's hard to have to make a decision like that for another human being. I think that surrounding yourself with cats and not worrying about your blog is a good antidote to the weight you must be feeling right now.