I won't be a death virgin for long.
That call. The one I've been waiting for - it came.
5/19/20262 min read
So it’s happening.
I’m sitting at my father’s bedside as he lay dying. We were able to bring him home on Hospice to his house on the Atlantic Ocean, which is, under the circumstances, a shiny silver lining.
I gave this to dad years ago and it hung on the window in the kitchen. When we moved him to Harbor Hill in March, I made sure to bring it along. Sailing was one of his life-long passions.
The weather has been heavenly - perfect for the most part - and my ideal of 70 degrees Fahrenheit with an ocean breeze. My brother Seth, who is and has been my incredible partner along this journey the last few months, was able to wheel the hospital bed out onto the deck a few days ago and we unwittingly gave our poor father quite a sunburn on his face, bony kneecaps, and his shins; the legs that he’s been teased about as being “gorgeous legs for a girl” his whole life, that are now atrophying and unable to hold him up.
I’ve been recording audio and a small amount of video as we go through this and find it’s helping me process (and distracting / giving me another focus when I can find a few spare moments when not grabbing a cat nap, giving and documenting medicine dosing, and trying to be present for everyone present).
From these recordings, I’ve thrown together far-from-perfectly-spoken-and-edited podcast episodes which will start today and continue on as long as I’m able.
My producing partner, Andi at Ellie Media is kindly scrambling to get the episodes up as soon as I finish and send them so you can follow along not quite in real time, but a day or two behind.
There is so much more to say, but for now, this is all I have.
I’m calling this podcast within a podcast Dispatches from Temple Heights (the name of the little seaside neighborhood in Maine where we’re situated), which just popped out of my mouth one day while recording and somehow reminded me of Garrison Keeler’s News from Lake Wobegon stories on A Prairie Home Companion. (I’m not in any way comparing my little attempt at documenting to his brilliance, but you get the point…)
I’m doing okay at the moment. I’ve always been good at holding it together when things get rough - the fallout, large or small, comes, usually much later.
More than anything, I feel incredibly fortunate to be by my father’s side to help him close out the circle of his life, to witness what I’d call a pretty good death, with very little pain so far, surrounded by family and friends (and a few dogs) and subsisting on ice cream. Not a bad way to go.
xk
We’ve had the most spectacular sunrises since Dad has been back home.