A prayer for a wary soul
It was in the mid 2000s when my dad informed us that he was diagnosed with Cancer and it was terminal. It was hard for him to deliver the news. He was going to try all the methods but he knew it was pointless – the cancer had metastasized throughout his body; liver, kidneys, bones, lungs, and brain. When I told my boss that I was living between my home and my dad’s, he told me to take time off and deal with my dad – and that he’ll negotiate with the higher-ups paid leave until my dad passed. As a side note, my dad died the last day of my paid leave. It just worked out that way.
I watched him whither away… My first memories of him was that of a vibrant 30 year old man who was athletic (a super athlete – I content even to this day that should my father land in a remote jungle with primitive tribes people, and they played a primitive, never seen before sport – my dad would learn the rules through observation alone, within about 15-minutes and within an hour, would be one of the top players of that sport in the history of that sport. He’s been drafted for Try-outs by several Professional Teams in various sports like Hockey, Baseball and Football. He once played chess against a Grand-Master and won… Won 1 out of the 3 games… But still won one. lol) This isn’t hero worship – I didn’t know my father very well – he worked abroad for 10 to 12 months a year. He was now in his mid-50s and dying, and this was the best time I got to know him, and he slept most of the time and was cranky the rest of the time. It got to the point where I couldn’t take care of him – once the tumors were growing in his brain, he had tremors and seizures. I couldn’t help him with his normal functions and his health like a professional could. By the time he was in palliative care, he was on the maximum dosage of Morphine which just made him sleep. I would sit there for hours watching him sleep – a skeleton with skin. His teeth were falling out, his hair was growing back in patches… His skin almost greenish. A handsome man that women wanted to a barely breathing corpse. Cancer did this do him – I’m sure the Chemo and Radiation didn’t help, along with the 2 to 3 packs of cigarettes a day for 40+ years. And all I can do is recover the memories, as fleeting as they were, of the man that raised me when he was home – and he wanted to be home – not abroad to work… That was just a job, but he had to pay the bills, keep food on the table and clothing on our back and this was the only way he knew how to do it… And he died with regrets – he never took any of the invites to try out for the teams – he did a couple teams, but never followed through – something held him back. He said my mom… But I don’t know this for sure…
So, on the day – I get a call in the morning from the night nurse going off duty – ‘Your dad isn’t doing well, he may not survive the day – you may want to come and be with him.’ I cried – my father was going to die today… I quickly showered, ate something fast and drove to the hospital and found him dead in his bed. I was too late… The sweat was still wet on his brow. His eyes closed – he was asleep when he died. It was the middle of October, raining and cold out that day – it hailed when I was pulling into the Hospital’s parking lot. I found his room – they had moved him during the night – he was alone in his room, near the window, the blind drawn shut… The rain knocking against the glass.
I took a step back away from him – and did a prayer in the middle of the room, alone – for his wary soul. I prayed to the Heavenly Creator to wash this man (that was my father) of his sins and to bathe him in the Glory and Light, and help him transcend to his next life a new man, free of pain, regrets, shame and hurt. That love be his guiding light and joy be his reward. As I prayed, tears streaming down my eyes – a ray of light shun through the window and the blinds over my father. The light sat upon him for a few seconds – not an entire minute, but a while. Then the day grew cold and wet, and dark again – it was done. The connection that held this man to me and this world, that thread, has been severed. All that will be left of him are his memories.
One day, I’ll be the man in that bed – a skeleton to the people who knew and loved me. One day – someone will stand back and say a prayer for me, with tears running down their face… Our moment is just that, a moment. Life is fleeting when we take it for granted and collect only regrets.
That day was born in me the desire to cultivate Joy and Love in my life and to demonstrate and radiate it in all my words, thoughts and actions. The transformation was as much for me as it was for him. The gift was the transition and being a witness, and being present when I was supposed to be and mindful of the lessons that I was meant to learn and grow from.
Beautifully written. Thank you for sharing the story of your dad and those moments you had at the end and what they meant to you.
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I was heartbroken when I learned that a young man recently lost his best friend in a tragic accident. That loss of someone that you connect with is something that is indescribable and shatters the heart in ways we cannot measure. That’s a hole that is impossible to fill. We fail to see the fragility of life, and to appreciate how precious the gift of life is; of making connections, learning about new facts and phenomena in our world – there’s so much beauty in the world, we just have to awaken our mind and sense to see and appreciate it all.
But to wrap our minds around the loss of someone precious is difficult – even for the most stalwart among us. So, in my heart, I thought maybe to share the idea that a Prayer from the Heart for that departed soul to find something bigger, better, brighter in the next life… I can’t think of anything greater to give someone, than a sincere connection with the heart. Between two souls that touched each other in this life – their hearts are connected in ways that we can never fully understand. So, communicating openly and freely at that level – in my mind is the greatest method to cope with that loss.
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Sorry for your loss. My dad passed from Cancer at 49 he was young. I was living in Ca at the time so I took a paid leave also to go back to Ohio. He found out in Feb of 97 and passed July 18th of 1997 so it took him super fast. When I learned the are facts that just because a dr tells you maybe 6 month you can’t plan on 6 months. I will never ever get over him not being here with me now. He was my rock and my life has been a hot mess since July 18th 1997. Now I am crying not for me but over this beautiful entry….
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Thank you Mermy. I’m also sorry for your loss – that is a long time to miss someone for sure.
But I’m sorry for my father… When he died, he didn’t have any grand-children. I was certainly trying – but it never happened for me. But it would be a few years later that my baby-sister would have her first and a few years later, her second. My dad would be in so much love right now knowing that these two new souls are in the world. I maintain that he’d spend so much of his time (and money) on these two it would make his heart and brain explode and he would love every second of it. And so would they. He’d be retired, golfing regularly, rebuilding a project car that he would have picked up for pennies on the dollar and making his whole life around these two grand-children.
The reality now is that they will never know him – only see a handful of pictures of him and not really have any idea who he really was, as we his children really didn’t know much about him either.
I’m sure its the same for your father. I’m sad for all the people who never got to meet and learn of the people in heir life that would have mattered the most to them had they been around. That’s the greater heartbreak. We live on with our memories and build new ones every day – we remain to be blessed, even if a piece of us is forever gone.
That’s why I understand, but have a hard time processing those people who choose to take their own lives. That there is so little hope in their life that they see no future worth living for. I write a lot about trauma and how the mind constructs our reality and if the net effect is always negative, then we should find the will somehow to keep working to find the corresponding mechanisms in our life that brings us a ounce more joy and understanding. Because we never know what fortunes the future holds for us. Those who tell us that there’s only scarcity, are the people who are manipulating us so that we get out of their way on their path to their own greatness. There are those in the world who believe that competition is a sin and we need to know these people and understand their gameplay. Not that this is always the causation of Depression and Bi-Polar Disorders… That’s how the brain fabricates its reality – their was a component to that thing that caused it – therefore, there has to be an opposing thing that can heal it – couldn’t there be? Will has to be the drive. But the body and spirit have their limits and we have to accept that too, as a people. But it doesn’t make it easier to think about what could have been for them had they survived or fought through it, or found alternatives to their lifestyle before bad things started to happen.
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