I want to share that my father is dying.
I am in Hawaii for three months, and shortly before I left he went into the hospital. I knew there was only a very slim chance that he would survive (now there’s none).
The night before I left, I went to visit him in Intensive Care. He knew of my travel the next day, to leave for HI for three months. He told me to go. He told me not to come back when he dies. He wants the best for me, and he knows how much I look forward to my time in HI every year.
None of that is the point. Except that it shows how much he loves me, that he would put me first even at the end of his life. I knew that if I left and didn’t come back, when I went to visit him at the hospital it would be the last time I’d see him.
I had the thought during the visit that I never wanted to leave. That I never wanted to say goodbye to him forever.
He’s been an amazing father. We were like two little buddies when I was little. I remember when we’d lie on the couch together, he’d lay his bicep with the eagle tattoo on it out and I’d use it for a pillow. When he got ready in the mornings, I’d squirt out the shaving cream for him into his hand. And, being an Italian, he’s always been a hairy guy, so that he’d get lint built up in his belly button from his tee shirts. I liked to take the lint out for him. That’s the kind of relationship we had.
He’s always been there for me, no matter what, as an adult, too. He’d literally give me the shirt off his back if I asked for it. That’s the kind of father he’s been.
I adore him. And yet, when I’d go visit him over the years, I’d give him a kiss on the cheek when I came in, and one when I’d leave.
The night I visited him for the last time, he put his hand out right away as soon as I walked into the room. And I held it. I touched his bicep; a lot skinnier now. I laid my hand on his forehead. I stroked his hair. I gave him reiki. I was literally touching him for the entire hour I was there.
Why had I not been doing all these things every time I visited him over the last fifty years? Why did I reserve all that physical affection for only when he was literally on his deathbed?
I guess I took him for granted in certain ways. I guess I let my discomfort with showing my full-on love for him overshadow the importance of the full expression of that love.
Maybe it doesn’t matter if I tell you this now, so that you might be more expressive with your loved ones while they are still here. Maybe it’s just the nature of human beings not to act until it’s nearly too late.
But just in case this may make a difference for even one of you, I thought I’d share.