Friday, August 7, 2009

He's Waiting

Two days ago my father was admitted into the hospital. He's battle with Cancer has taken a serious turn, and he has developed deep tissue thrombosis, which is often the result of chemotherapy and inactivity - in other words, he has a rather large blood clot in his leg. The doctor sent him to the hospital and while he was there, he had another attack of extreme pain, in addition to a bloody bowel movement.

The doctors don't know where the blood is coming from, they are trying to find out. My mother always says that medicine isn't a science and she is so right about that. It always seems like doctors are scurrying around trying to rule out what could be wrong with us to finally discover what "is". With competing doctors - i.e. a surgeon, a cardiologist, a cancer doctor and a GI specialist - also comes differing perspectives on prognosis. One doctor yesterday told my family that my father's death was imminent - hours or days at best - the rest disagreed. I've come to the conclusion that none of them really know.

Here is what I know: my father is getting tired. There is only so much that an 86 year old body can handle. He's in pain, and he's feeling stretched and thin. In short, I beleive that he knows the end of his life is near and that he is ready for what comes next.

I know who is waiting for my father. I've seen him once in a dream, as I was on the cusp of marrying my husband and becoming a mother for the first time. He was waiting for me in much the same type of place that he is waiting for my father now - it looked like a hospital. He was young, though not as young as he should have been - and so very handsome. He always had such kind eyes, or so I have been told. He smiled when I saw him and seemed surprised that I didn't know him. My heart recognized him though, it was my brother, Jamie, the one who died when he was three, long before it was ever possible that we could meet. He smiled and told me that my life was going in the right direction. I felt such peace after that. I wanted to tell my father that I know my brother is waiting for him too. It's been such a long time, and for all these years my father has carried a terrible burden of guilt. It's time to lay that down, along with the pain and the cancer, and go to the next place.

I guess that is what faith is all about - the blind leap - moving from this plane of existence to the next without really knowing for sure what you will find when you get there. I know that my father's faith will carrying him to a much better place... one where there is no pain, and no more cancer.


Jen said...

That's beautifully written! I know it is so hard to see someone you love in pain. You are both in my prayers. Lots of love!

Ann M. said...

My heart hurts for you. I am so glad that your father will have someone waiting for him when it is time to let go.

Thinking of you.