Departure

I finally went to sleep around midnight.
I never seem to sleep deeply.
I was in the middle of a dream where I was at the beach with my family when my mother came into the guest room.

"Rob... I think things are not going well. I'm sorry to wake you but I think you should come out now."

It was 3:55AM.

I came in and my father was fading. At this point, he seems to be exhibiting all of the signs that were written in the book given to us by hospice.

His eyes were slightly open.
He was unresponsive.
His breathing was labored, as if he here a fish out of water. It seemed to occur every 1.5 seconds.
He did not look like he was in pain.

We sat on the couch, holding hands, and watched silently.

4:09AM arrived. His breathing intervals began decreasing. Each breath became more and more gentle and less 'fish out of water' like.

And then, at about 4:13AM the breathing stopped.

As I began to get up, he jolted slightly and it startled my mother and I. We could not help but find humor in that split second - like in the movies when a character dramatically dies and sits up for one last moment kind of thing.

He didn't move.

We watched him until about 4:17AM and did not see him breathing. We tried to feel his pulse, nothing. My mother then grabbed the blood pressure monitor and we tried to get a reading.

There was nothing.

He was gone.

His body was still, the life, the energy, the spirit and soul seemed to have departed from the vessel.

I sat with my mother. It hit her hard. The grief came in waves.

I remained so calm. I am still calm as of 10:48AM today.

I made my way to the kitchen and picked up the phone. I called Hospice and alerted them that it appeared he had passed away.

I called Jen. I told her. I miss her so terribly, again, as I did the previous weeks of being here and away from my heart's home.

I called my brother. He decided to come immediately.

After he arrived and processed his grief a little, we sat as a family around my father and filled long periods of silence with happy memories.

The hospice nurse arrived and pronounced him dead (officially). She and I worked to remove his T-shirt and replace it with a football jersey (San Jose State Spartans) a gift from one of his fraternity brothers. My parents lived, ate, and breathed football and this was their passion since graduating from San Jose State in the early 60's.

After my mother retreated to her bedroom, I went for a walk to the coffee shop to load up on caffeine.

After some phone calls to family and friends, my brother called to let me know they were there at the house to remove my father's body.

I walked back quickly and set my hand on his shoulder. I smiled. I saw him in my mind by the side of a creek with a fishing pole in hand and a roll of toilet paper in the other. There is a long story about that, but it brought an even bigger smile to my face.

I was relieved that his pain and suffering had ended.

Now I am immersed in phone calls, arrangements, restoring the house to its original condition...

I have a timeline and the clock is ticking.

I have to be at the airport in 5 hours. Wish me luck.