Today I woke up tired, and kept wondering why, if I had gone to bed early like I did, was I so tired. After breakfast and a few chores all I wanted to do was crawl in my bed and go back to sleep. I thought, wait, what day is it? I checked my phone for the date, and it was what I had thought. It’s the 7th of December today. The day that I got a phone call in the middle of the night/early morning from my mom who was sobbing on the other line that something was happening to dad and that the paramedics were taking him away to the hospital and that I needed to pray right away.
When that phone rang from mom, I knew it was about dad instantly and I knew something was wrong, and I jumped up fast and alert to answer it. As I prayed I pleaded for dad to be ok, to have him stay alive, to save him. I reached out to everyone that I could think of Via text, via social media, via prayer groups and temple prayer rolls. I desperately wanted a happy ending to have dad back safe at home with us. But hours passed as I prayed and asked for prayers and I got the call I’d been dreading. My sister was on the line with me and she told me that it was time to say goodbye to dad.
It was about 4AM. I immediately called my neighbor Nancy, who sort of knew something was going on with my dad over conversations from the past few days. She answered immediately and knew it was my dad, and she told me to go to the hospital and that she would take care of the kids. I hurried to get ready and I left as quickly as I could.
As I drove to the hospital I asked Paul if he would like to be there with me via facetime on the phone since he had just gotten back to Idaho. He said yes.
When I got there we were told that we would only be able to see my dad one at a time, that they weren’t allowing more than that at a time because of Covid. It was December 7, 2020, everything was under Covid restrictions, masks, limited to no visitors. They allowed me in, and I walked into his hospital room alone. I don’t know what I imagined, that he would be conscious, that I would get to talk to him and have him talk back, that I would be able to see life in his eyes. But as I looked at him all hooked up to life support with an oxygen mask on his face, his eyes closed, I realized that was not how this was going to go. I would be saying goodbye. I stood there feeling small and alone.
And then Paul called on Facetime and I was able to show Paul dad, and Paul began to sob and called out dad’s name. Then I began to sob. We walked over to Dad and told him to hold on, that mom was coming, that Jeremy was bringing her, that we would all be able to see him soon. Paul and I had our moments together with dad for a little while. Then Mom and Jeremy walked through the curtain, which was surprising since I was told it would be one at a time, but they decided to bend the rules for us. Mom came in with a brave look on her face, Jeremy came in and crumbled, turning away from the scene and pounding his fist on the counter as he began to sob. We all began talking to dad, telling him how much we loved him, what a good dad he was, what a good husband, what a good job he had done. We told him to hang on for Bryan. We waited for Bryan, I don’t really see Bryan cry much, he doesn’t share that side very much, but Bryan came in and immediately started hugging us as his face turned red and tears and sniffles began.
We were all there, except for Tiffy who had been the one to be first, who had had to decide whether to let them take him to another hospital to try to fight to keep him alive (which they explained that dad would be a vegetable, wouldn’t be able to communicate or take care of himself) or to keep him there and let him die. She knew immediately what dad would say. She knew he would want to go, to leave this life and see us again someday. So she was the first to say goodbye. To squeeze his hand and tell him how much she loved him. All alone. She went home so I could come, so mom could come, and Jeremy, and Bryan.
When I touched dad’s hand his heart rate would go back up. When mom touched his hand his heart rate would jump back up. Then came the time. They pulled the plug and we stood around him and waited. We sang to him that Families could be together forever, we let everyone via facetime say goodbye. And then he flatlined.
Immediately we had to take care of business that we didn’t want to do. We had to find a funeral home, we had to decide where dad would go. There was so much to do and they wouldn’t let us leave until we had a plan for his body.
I miss my dad. It’s been 2 years and the events of that day are still clear as if I was living it again. I remember coming home afterward and feeling so tired. I just wanted to crawl in bed and never leave it again.
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