The entire ride over is silent. She doesn’t speak a word, and when we pull up and park at the center, she stops me from opening my door.
“What if he doesn’t recognize me? I knew I shouldn’t have flown back last time. Dammit.” Her eyes water and it’s never going to end. She can’t go in there looking like this.
“We knew this was coming. He might not recognize us, but he is still our dad in there. Even if it’s just keeping him company, that’s better than not visiting at all, right?”
She wipes her face up, nods. “We can do this.”
This prepared neither of us for what is coming today, but we shall face it together. Lean on each other during this difficult time. Such as family does.
The doors open, and Raquel hurries toward us, not mentioning a word of what transpired last night. Although, that is what’s best for both of us right now. My feelings for her have not wavered since the moment I laid eyes on her, yet things continue to keep us apart. Sometimes, that makes love far greater indeed.
“Can we see him?” Hazel asks, taking one last deep breath before our visit.
She nods and leads us down the hallway to his room.
“I must warn you, he has gotten worse,” she says, before opening the door.
Our father is laying in his bed, watching, as always, some action movie. That part of him still exists, but he does not recognize us. I can tell by the way his brows raise.
He strains trying to talk to us, but it’s clear that his trouble speaking is only going to get worse.
“Don, I just wanted to come visit and see if you needed anything today?” I ask, holding onto my sister’s hand.
He shakes his head, and wavers us out of the door, and points to the bathroom. The nurse nods and helps him out of bed.
We never envisioned that he would decline so fast, and right before our very eyes, but we knew the consequences of this disease. All I wish is that I could have just one more conversation with my father, but I will not get it.
“What are we supposed to do without him?” Hazel asks, tracks running her face. “I won’t even get to tell him how appreciative I am for everything he has done for me. Without him, I never would have gotten this far with my life. I just wish he knew.”
I embrace her, and understand a great deal about how this is affecting her, and how much our lives are going to change after this. Will we even be able to see him? Will our presence cause discomfort to him?
To know that his swift decline in health could take him from us today, tomorrow, next week is too much to think about right now. It is my duty to stay strong for Hazel and for our family. He was clear on what he wanted, and how proud he was of us every single day. We can’t forget that.
We must take some time to process, and he would not want us to see him like that. However, it doesn’t change the fact that I want to be there with him until the end. Yet, how do I do that, but as if a stranger to him? He will never know who I am anymore, and that’s heartbreaking.
“We should go,” I say, nodding at Raquel on the way out the doors.
I hoped that he would be himself today, just to give Hazel a chance to say her goodbyes, before it was too late. Time was not on our side.
The car ride home is unimaginable. Hazel cries the entire way, and I try to console her, but she does not want it. Aiden should be here, but he is back in Massachusetts tending to his business, like that’s more important than being here during this difficult time with my sister. I’m enraged that he would even think that’s appropriate.
“What are we to do now? If he does not know us, do we visit him as someone else? Pretend not to know him?”
There’s our dilemma. Right now, we need to get home, drown our sorrows, and come to terms with reality. Things will not get better. This is the downward spiral the doctors have been warning us about and trying to prepare us for, but we are not ready.
How does one prepare for losing a loved one, even if they have the knowledge beforehand?