I can still remember the day I stepped out to finally wash a big pile of blankets that I have been putting off for 2 weeks. But, just before I left, I fed my dad his lunch. My dad was very ill, hallucinating from the medication that helped him cope with the pain from having lung cancer and emphysema.
Since only less than 15% of his lungs were functional, he was often out of breath, holding on to my arm and asking me if he could borrow my lungs for just a few minutes. The fact that I couldn’t do anything to help him get fresh air was devastating.
After feeding him, I went to the laundry mat to wash the blankets that my family had used when they visited (one last time) to spend time with dad.
As I was loading the blankets in the dryer, my phone rings. I looked and it was my mom. I knew, before I answered that it wasn’t good news. I picked up and when I heard my mom sob, my whole face dropped. Out of all the days I had, why did I pick that day to do that chore?
It’s a day I will never forget. I came back to the house and saw my mom and sister hovering over my dad’s emaciated body. I couldn’t cry. I was upset but I couldn’t cry.
I miss my dad and all his jokes and stories about his olden days. He had a special way of fathering me (as I can only speak for myself) that even when he is gone, I can still hear his voice in my head. When I’m out late, I can hear him tell me to come home. When I slam the doors, I can hear him tell me to shut it quietly. When I leave dirty dishes in the sink, I can hear him tell me to at least soak it in water. When I am too busy, I can hear him tell me to slow down. When I go to birthday parties within a few consecutive days, I can hear him tell me “You know, every day is someone’s birthday, if you know too many people, that’s a lot of birthdays to attend” —> this one is my favorite.
This father’s day, I wish I can have one day to just sit on the sofa and watch action movies with my dad.
I miss my dad.
Mae Day Marketing 