My Father
By Dark Fox
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As I pulled into the car park, my stomach tensed. I had been here many times before. My father was here.
When he had first become forgetful, everyone in the family put it down to old age. It was normal or so we thought. However he proceeded to decline, forgetting our names or disappearing out of the house and getting lost.
Being the eldest, it was left to me to sort things out. I took him to doctor appointments where tests revealed he had dementia. It was a shock to all of us. Since our mother had died, dad had been our rock and now it was my turn to be that foundation. As time went on and he deteriorated, it was decided that it was best to place him into the specialist care home.
As I made my way in, I felt the familiar dread. I never knew which man I would get. Would I get the lucid man who was the man I remembered? Or as more often now the vacant aggressive individual?
The home had called me yesterday, They were concerned. Dad didn’t seem well and they thought his end might be near. I rang my three sisters and informed them. They all visited yesterday. Now it was my turn with dad.
As I passed through reception, I was met with mournful faces and glances. I knew it was a grim situation.
A nurse who I had met many times before let me into the secure unit. This was where they kept all the residents who were liable to wandering off. It kept them and the other residents safe. I made my way to his room. The room looked unchanged, everything in it’s place.
My father was in his bed. I realized how pale and emaciated he looked. It was a version of my dad I did not recognize. My memory too me to a time where both my parents were alive and healthy. Mum was cooking dinner and dad had just got home from the pits. He was a strong-willed, impressive figure which was in contrast to what greeted my eyes today.
“Dad? Can you hear me?”
“Daniel? You came to see me, How are you? How are the girls?” He was talking about Josie and Sarah.
Today he remembered. I told him all the important things that had happened. Josie had started a new job but was still being a great stepmother to Sarah my daughter. SArah had started university and seemed to be in her element. Then there was silence. Neither of us wanting to defile this moment of togetherness.
Suddenly Dad spoke. “Daniel, I have something important I want and must tell you. First give me a drink. It seems an age since the nurses have been in.”
I saw the water on the side table with the straw in it. I slowly picked the glass up and tentatively put it to his dry lips. Dad took a long drink.
I wanted to ask what was so important but waited not wanting to rush his thoughts.
“I know I never said it a lot to you my son and I feel as if I should have told you more. I love you amd I am proud of you. Yes, you have made mistakes and may make more but you are my son, my only son. I love you.”
My eyes welled up with tears. I was not an emotional man and never thought that I would need tissues here with me today. I wiped them the tears away with my jumper sleeve,
I pushed the feelings back down. I did not want to show these right now. I gazed at my dad. He was the most amazing and important man in the world to me and right now he looked tired.
“Dad, get some rest. I’ll come back tomorrow and see you. I love you.”
I left him in his room. The nurse came to let me out this unit. I read her name tag for the first time since my dad had been here. Six months I had been coming here and never thought to ask any of their names.
“Thank you Anna for looking after my dad. I know he can be difficult at times.” Anna thanked me but said it was no problem. I made my way through reception and left the building. I returned home.
I got the call about three hours later. My father had gone to sleep not long after I had left. He had not woken up. He had passed away.
I felt relief. No longer did I have the burden of his care. No longer was he in pain. I could remember the way he was. The man I knew. My Father.
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Comments
feeling guilty
One couldn't think you might actually wish someone dead, never mind your dad. But in a way face it, he was already dead. One shouldn't feel guilty, and not be judged.
Keep well! Good story! Tom
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