Begging

In the middle of the morning, my sister and I like to take turns crawling into bed with dad to keep him company. He doesn't seem to mind having his tiny space invaded. I'd like to think that the additional body warmth helps with aches that he can't tell us about. Perhaps he likes knowing that he isn't alone.

Don't you worry, Dad. You will never be alone. 

The hospice nurse said that along with dad's pancreas and liver, his lower lungs have also shut down - thus causing his breathing to sound labored.  A week ago I counted the lull between breaths, noting 5 (one-thousands) second intervals.  As of last night, dad's lungs expanded between 11 second intervals.

I am convinced that waiting period in between each inhale is what eternity feels like.

It takes every ounce of restraint to keep from pounding on his rib cage to wake up his failing organs.  In helpless anguish, I place my hands on top of his chest - trying to manually draw his breath out through sheer will.

No such luck.

As a part of the "natural process of decline," dad is also refusing to and/or having trouble with swallowing. This makes the task of administering his morphine and other meds extremely scary. Choking is a real threat. We've resorted to crushing his medications and mixing them with a teaspoon of pineapple juice. The slurry is digustingly bitter (I tried it!) - but it's a necessary step to ensure that he is as comfortable as possible. The only caveat is that we have to make sure that my dad is wide awake whenever we offer him anything. That is the most painful process of all.

You can hear the voice of the person attempting to wake dad up getting louder and louder.... the level of desperation increasing with each decibel reached.

"Dad? Daaaaaad??! We have to take your medicine, Dad. Daaaaaaaad????"

By the fourth or fifth "Daaaad???" ---- it is clear that we are no longer just trying to stir him  - we are begging.

Begging him to take his meds.
Begging that he swallows properly so that he doesn't choke.
Begging him to come back to us.

But we all know how this story is going to end.

We find solace in knowing that we are surrounding him with love.  We are honoring my dad with the dignity that he deserves. And even after the Lord decides to bring him home, we will continue to love him ... and miss him.... forever.