Twenty years ago today I said good-bye to my father for the
last time. Officially, he will have
passed away on July 24, 1994 just before one o'clock in the morning. I said my final farewell the evening before
in a sterile hospital room filled with family, no privacy for the matter. I whispered "good bye"; I gave him
a kiss on his lips. He never
responded. I promptly walked out of the
room and stood against the wall until I could no longer stand before sliding
down the wall while crying. A nurse
passed by me and made some exclamation along the lines of "poor girl". She asked me if I wanted a Popsicle. I have spent many years wondering when my
last real good-bye was, the responsive one anyway. I do not even remember how many days my dad
was comatose, but that last real good-bye would have been just before the
coma. I do not remember many of the
gritty details anymore; it is probably a good thing. The only good bye I have to remember was a
kiss upon unresponsive lips.
It was twenty years ago today that my Aunt Jo Ann offered to
take my brothers and I to her home for food and rest. I do not know why I said yes, but I did. She took my older brother home while my
younger brother and I went to her house.
That house...it has seen more tragedy than a home should. I slept in my cousin Sara's room with
her. Sara, who passed away in that house
in January this year, was so kind to me.
My junior by 9 years or so, she refused to let me sleep on the
floor. I would find out that following
morning that my dad was gone as my aunt sat next to me on her sofa while
gingerly giving me the news. To be
honest, I had known before she even said the words.
It was twenty years ago today that I realized my life would
be different. I had known this time was
coming. This death was from an illness that
took its time and crept into my dad for years.
He was 39 when he died. I knew it
was coming. Nevertheless, until the
moment I kissed my dad good-bye, that very last time...it was just another day
to get through. That last time I left
the hospital was when I knew things would never be the same.
It was twenty years ago today I said good-bye to him. I do not know what my life would be like if
he were still here. There is no point in
imagining it. Regardless, it has been
twenty years of missing the best parts about my dad. It has been twenty years of consoling others
while saying, "the pain never goes away, but it does get easier"
because I actually know. It has been
twenty years of life moving on without him.
