My brother and I are agreed, our father is in his last chapter. He is almost ninety-three, suffered a debilitating stroke four years ago, and a couple of weeks ago we thought it was time to plan the funeral but apparently he had a couple more pages before the end.
He’s very weak, sleeps a lot, doesn’t eat much, but still tries to get a story out now and then. The other night he was telling Kathryn and me about a man who had a German Shepherd who’s girlfriend took it with her when they broke up and now he wants to go home but he can’t because he’s not allowed on the sofa. Then he paused, wrinkled his brow, smiled, and said, “I’m not sure that’s exactly how it goes.” I’ve got no idea where we were headed with that German Shepherd but I couldn’t imagine a better ending. Life lesson: sometimes it’s best just to stop. shrug, and smile.
What else have you taught me, Dad? Certainly to be honest. Go one more round even if you think you’ve lost. Keep doing one more day, maybe they’ll plan your funeral too early. Grow when life’s seasons change. Love one woman the best you can. Smile when a friend walks in the room, even if you’re on your deathbed. How to live the last chapter.
We all have a last chapter. Sitting with my first and best hero as he goes through his is hard, sweet, holy, earthy, real, surreal, sacred, funny, tragic, tiring… life. I’m anxious about what my next chapter will be like without him in it.
Sometimes I know exactly what to do: drive a bit so I can spend a few days with him, tell him I love him, cut up his pancakes, put his teeth in the cup for the night, put lotion on his face after shaving him, and try to support my brother who is the primary caregiver. (a woman once told me that if I was half the man my brother is, I’m alright. I told her half sounded about right)
Sometimes I have no idea. No idea. This is my first time watching my father die.
Sometimes all I know to do is breathe, be honest, go one more round, love the best I can, start a good story and remember to smile when I realize that’s not exactly how I thought it went.