Today would have been my Dad’s 80th birthday. As with pretty much everything I write there is a negative connotation behind it. He was a lovely man, horribly racist, rude, and nice, and thought that money was the best way to bribe people and be selfish. It’s sort of a mixed bag when it comes to Dad. When mum was around he was more of those traits but after mum died a few years before he started to appreciate the family he had before the dementia started. Therein lies the rub. Separating the man from the illness. It must have been horrible losing your mind but he didn’t realize he had a mind so it sort of just made him a very normal person. Near the end, it was hard for him to recognize me. He still remembered Mum and asked when she would be coming. I played along a few times and said she would be there soon she’s just shopping. Didnt feel nice lying to him like that but he would forget what I said and the pain on his face when I told her she was dead really hurt more than the lie. So that was a little selfish of me.
He was in hospital for around 2 months before he died. I was with him. 10pm on 15th August (my birthday). I was playing him random things on the phone. There was this football commentary from two great goalkeepers (Southall & Goram) that I put on. He was nonresponsive at this point but figured he might enjoy listening to it. We watched crappy tv earlier in the day. I’d still talk to him even if he couldn’t respond.
I held his hand while talking to him. I felt him move his hand, tightened his grip, and then he released it. He died. I cried. The nurse came in and checked his breathing and pulse and said he just passed away. I remember asking the nurse to leave for a moment, then I cried and hugged him. I went into the hallway, called my brother to let him know and he drove to the hospital. I sat on the stairs crying my eyes out. Brother came and we hugged. He told me not to cry and that the body laying there was no longer Dad and he had left. The nurses took all the machinery away, tucked him in nicely and it was as if he was just sleeping.
I still think about it. How he tensed his hand as he went. He was a miserable old bastard but he was my dad and I do miss him from time to time. He was never one to show emotion to you and a phone call would last around 10 seconds. But yeah. So today I will light a candle and think of the fond memories that I do have and try not to think about the bad.
Sorry if that bummed anyone out! I didn’t mean to.