That Day…

Posted under Le Blog by Cesua

Thanksgiving will forever have a distinct meaning to me.

Four years ago…

5 days before turkey day:

After a routine blood he was admitted to the hospital in order to stabilize some blood-cell-thingie counts. Not a big deal and some-what routine.

4 days before turkey day:

Looking good, joking around and wanting to go home. He’s told just one more day to be safe.

3 days before turkey day:

Ring, ring: Get to the hospital, something’s wrong.

Something about coughing fit….blood rushing to brain…..alarms go off in the main deck. The tiny commander of the brain orders the rest of the tiny workers in the brain to perform an emergency shut-down of all systems in order to prevent further damage.

The wait begins.

2 days before turkey day:

A survey shows significant damage was done before the deck crew was able to shut down all systems.

We’re told contact cannot be made with the tiny brain commander.

Communication appears lost.

Communication channels will continue to be scanned.

In the meantime we’re told to prepare to maybe make a very hard decision.

Several calls are made in an effort to garner support and to help discuss drastic measures.

1 day before turkey day:

All discussions are put on hold until all parties are present.

The cavalry of love and support will arrive in 2 days.

Evening before turkey day:

Sent little brother and little sister home to get rest. Big Sis and Big Bro will stand watch.

Things appear normal, -or as normal as they can be at the moment.

They have to clean the room so we have to step outside for a few moments.

A little before midnight I make the decision to leave to get a much needed drink with friends. Big Sis is cool with this. She will keep watch.

I can’t leave because my jacket is the room.

After about 15 minutes, we finally are allowed back in room.

Before I can get my jacket on, alarms and beeps go off.

“What’s that?”

Nurses scramble and call doctors. Frantic pace. Nervous fill the room and butterflies fight in my stomach.

“What’s going on?”

“We think he’s leaving”.

Nothing.

Blank.

No words. No thoughts. No nothing.

Don’t know what to do or say. Everything seems so….unreal.

“I’m going to call Paty and tell her to come back.”

“No. Don’t leave me…stay with me, please.”

I don’t know how much time passes before the frantic pace of movement stops.

Shyly and almost apologetically, the nurses leave the room.

Sound goes away.

Sound comes back.

So does understanding.

…I just lost my Father.

*

We have a theory. Maybe he knew the situation his children had been put in and the severity of the decision they were being asked to make.

So, maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to put us through it. So maybe he ordered the tiny commander in the brain to shut down all systems….permanently.

Maybe.

*

We chose not to make this day one we’d dread. We know what happened, but we also know we have a family to lead, and the best way to lead it is the way he’d want us to lead it. With laugther.

We’re not perfect, but we’re trying.

*

A few months later I made this video for my sisters and little brother.

I don’t know if my little brother ever saw it or if the rest my Dad’s family ever saw it.