Unprecedented

 I've never heard the word, "Unprecedented" so much as in the past months but it aptly describes everything in life right now. It's so hard to grasp the times we're currently facing and my heart grieves. 

In the midst of all this mess, my dad died. The dreaded day of losing a parent arrived and when I felt that gut wrenching loss as I was lying next to him in his hospital bed, I realized why I was hoping to die before my parents.  The anguish felt (and still feels) unbearable. 

I have always held intense sympathies for those who have lost a family member. My dear cousins have lost a brother, a father, a mother. My step sisters and brother lost a mother. The list goes on but suffice to say, I get it. Now I get the feeling of this all encompassing shock that surrounds you when the person who was responsible for giving you life has left this life. 

Every night I dream about my dad. Vivid dreams. We're talking, we're in the company of family, we're experiencing good times together. When I wake up it makes me miss him even more.

Even though we didn't see one another often, the world suddenly feels lonelier now that he's not in it. We should have been able to have more years but sadly, his life ended way too soon. I had hopes as he aged that he would settle and find peace in the company of his family. 

As days went on leading to his passing I began to feel an urgency to be with him because he simply wasn't getting better. He was declining both physically and mentally. I would call the hospital multiple times per day, speak with his doctor every night and have conference calls with the palliative care team.

You're never really ready when that call comes "to get here while he still has some cognition". The hospital graciously made arrangements so I could see him in the hospital and early the next morning I was on a flight

If you can believe it, there is a silver lining in this. 

Unlike many, my brother and I had the opportunity to spend Dad's last days together. Sometimes it was too difficult for my brother too see dad so debilitated because we remember him full of life, vibrancy and the ability to command a room. 

Our last days together were meaningful and healing. It was the most connected I had felt to my dad in a long time because he became one of us. He wasn't trying to impress or entertain. He was in the most humble state I had ever seen him and it only made me love him more. 

Each day my brother and I would leave the hospital we would blow kisses at him and each time, he would blow them back to us. I will never forget the feeling of his parental love that washing over me and I find myself sitting in that memory with both thankfulness and sorrow. 

On the morning he passed we sat quietly together. The nurse told me hearing is the last function to leave a person so I played Andre Bocelli music and his favorite Jacques Pepin cooking videos. I read him Italian recipes and Bible Psalms. 

He passed very quietly and peacefully. It was just the two us and I will never forget the silence.

We are two weeks in since his passing and as the messages fade, the flowers die and people resume their lives, mine has stopped movement. I continue to go through the motions of work, family and daily responsibilities but everything  looks different now and if  you see a smile on my face, please know it's fake.

Now as I attempt (in a futile way) to settle his affairs, I ask myself how Dad would want things handled. Frankly on some things, I'm not quite sure. On others, I know with absolute clarity. One thing Dad and I shared is our inability to stand up and advocate for ourselves but I'm doing the best I can in order to honor him. 

I have discovered I possess a fierce protection over my father and I'm OK with that.