My father passed away at 1:13 this afternoon. He had been suffering from acute luekemia for several months. He had two rounds of chemotherapy but these were ineffective. I’m told that he wasn’t feeling well last night or this morning and so he was taken in to the hospital this morning. The staff was running some tests and in the meantime they put him on oxygen and kept him there for observation. While one of my brothers and my mother were waiting with him he passed away without warning. My oldest brother was on his way at the time and arrived just five minutes later.
It was with the knowledge of his ill health that I went down to visit him at Thanksgiving. I couldn’t take the poopers along because, due the after effects of the chemotherapy, children weren’t allowed in to his presence (because children tend to be walking collections of various infectious agents).
It was a good visit, although tinged with the fact that we both knew it was likely to be the last time I saw him alive. Due to Mom’s pregnancy my traveling was restricted but Mom suffered through a long weekend handling the kids by herself so that I could spend some time with my parents. I managed to bring down a DVD of video of the new house and the kids for him to watch and receive a “hello, Gramps!” from the boys so he got one last look at his grandchildren.
I understand a bit better now what people mean by “closure”. My father and I had some talks and assessed the time our lives were intertwined. I at least got to tell him how much I appreciated him as my father before I left so I have no real regrets about things left unsaid.
Still, I’ll miss him.