Daddy

The last couple of years seem to be a blur. Time certainly flies when busy living life. Since my Mother's passing in 2017, I have tried to keep a watchful eye on my Daddy. Calling him multiple times daily to check on him or having him over for a visit. Also, asking if he was taking his medications properly and keeping his doctor appointments. My Daddy was 70 years old when my Mother passed away and still very independent.

On November 28, 2019, our lives were once again changed. I received a phone call that ended in an ER visit and diagnosis of a stroke for my Daddy. He was left with impaired speech, weakness and a very strong impossibility of ever driving or living alone again. Since that time, he had a short hospital stay, an inpatient physical therapy stay and a skilled nursing facility stay for continued physical therapy.

On January 17, 2020, my sweet Daddy came home to my house. To say I was nervous would be an understatement. I had not been given any real expectation on what level of care he would require and how to handle it. It was simply a "learn as you go" situation. I was informed home health would come to my home to do physical therapy, occupational therapy and speech therapy. Beyond that, I had absolutely no idea what to do. So, on January 18th I began to figure it out.

My Daddy had grown used to a hospital environment and depending on the things that make simple tasks that had now become difficult, easier. A wheelchair and potty chair were delivered. A walker was purchased and from there as situations arose we adapted accordingly. Waterproof pads, bed alarm, bed rail, bibs, sectioned plates, adult diapers, comfortable shorts and t-shirts, slip proof socks....all the things that would, not only, make him safer and life easier for him but things that would help me keep him that way.

There has been a therapist of some description to visit Daddy five days a week since January. Each visit saw a small improvement. He was getting stronger and his ability to walk assisted improved slowly. However, the daily frustrations of losing his independence wore on both of us. I would have never dreamed that the man who raised me and took such good care of us would literally have to depend on me (the child) for his every need. My Daddy had become my child. A complete role reversal. And, my heart was broken. For him and for me.

When you're in the midst of the storm it's hard to see the blue skies on the other side. Each day had its own set of challenges for both of us. However, little did I know, those challenges would become some of my sweetest memories. In the beginning, I was so angry with him. As it turns out, he had not been taking care of himself at all. He did not follow doctor's instructions with regard to his medications and the possibility existed that his stroke was preventable. I simply could not process that he had not been truthful with me for two years in that regard. After reconciling my anger, I turned inward and blamed myself for not being more aggressive with him in overseeing his health. Though, when really thinking about it, there would have been no way to boss around an independent adult. Especially my Daddy. We aren't supposed to boss our parents. They boss us.

As Daddy's time with me continued we fell into a routine and each day became a little easier in some ways and harder in others. He looked forward to seeing his great granddaughter (my granddaughter) every morning.  I babysit her so they got to spend a lot of time together.  He loved her so. He would lose track of the days and every Saturday would wake up and ask when "the girl" would be over.  I would have remind him every time that she wasn't here on the weekend. In a lot of ways I think spending time with her kept him with us a little longer.

The last Saturday of my Daddy's life was filled with family and fun. We did not get to have Christmas with his sister and her family in December. So, we got together on March 7th. I was apprehensive about taking him to Georgia and getting to far away from home. But, everything was perfect. And, he enjoyed himself so much. I am so glad we went.

Daddy was prone to having bad days. Sometimes he was just tired and I had to remind myself that he was a 73 year old stroke patient.  He was particularly tired on Thursday. He catnapped on and off all day. It was just the two of us for dinner that evening. I woke him from a nap and asked if he was ready to eat. Then got him into his wheelchair and to the kitchen table. It was like so many evenings before. I gave him his medication, checked his sugar, put his bib on him and gave him his plate. And, like every evening before it, when he finished his meal he said "that was good." After dinner, I got him back into his favorite comfortable chair and turned on Family Feud. Watching Family Feud had become our quiet together time every evening. He would guess answers and laugh at Steve Harvey. And, when he was ready for bed he was ask to be "tucked in." This was like any other night.

When Daddy asked to go to bed I got him into his wheelchair and rolled him to his room. Just like all the nights before, I told him he needed to try to potty before laying down. As we started the process of standing him up to his walker, before he stood from his chair, he said "you have been so good to me." Those were the last words I would ever hear him speak.

My precious Daddy left this earth peacefully just before midnight on Friday, March 13, 2020, from a  brain bleed. He did not suffer and felt no pain. He simply slipped out of this life and into the next one. He had been missing my Mother much more than usual and cried often about it. I truly believe God called him home to reunite them and end his longing for her.

As I prepare for his funeral, so many memories and moments spiral through my mind. Memories from my childhood to now. And, the things that frustrated me the most about the last couple of months are the things I wish I could do today. I have questioned every decision I made and every action I took on his behalf. But I keep coming back to the same thought. I had the privilege of taking care of my Daddy one on one in a way he would not have received in a nursing home. My heart broke for him every time I changed his diaper, wiped his backside, helped him into the shower, handed him his toothbrush to brush his teeth, helped him get dressed, combed his hair, cooked a meal for him, did his laundry, helped him to bed or took him to a doctor appointment. However,  I was happy to return the favor because I knew he had done every bit of that for me. He was there for my first breath and I was there for his last.

He and my Mother are walking hand in hand in Heaven now. He is happy and healed.  He is where he wanted to be for the last two years. I know I will see them both again. Until then, I will find, yet another, new normal.