No. 15

 

My father passed on June 6th of complications from COVID-19.  He was No. 15 on the death list in his nursing home and there were 66 residents out of 100  who were Covid-19 positive at the time of his passing.  More than a few employees of the facility were also sick.

The facility itself had a good record initially – 2 months in lock down and no cases.  We got daily e-mail reports.  No cases.  Then, someone brought it in somehow, and it spread like wildfire despite the many precautions they had in place.

My Dad had some hobbies and habits that were  just a little reckless in his lifetime – not significantly so, but enough that I would not have believed a virus would be what took him in the end – and just 5 days after being diagnosed without symptoms.   We hadn’t been allowed to visit him and he hadn’t been allowed to leave the facility or his ward even for those two months.  He had been tested several times for the virus along with all other residents and his initial test was negative.  Just last week it came back positive – but he had no symptoms.  A few days later he had a fever and felt weak so I asked them to send him to the hospital because I wanted him monitored there in case he took a turn for the worse.  They sent him to a clinic instead because he wasn’t struggling for breath, where they built him up with fluids (he was dehydrated) and gave him tylenol and oxygen.  (his O2 was low).  We were not allowed to accompany him but we were in touch with the Dr. as he treated him.  He felt dad was not in distress and sent him home with instructions to remain on 02 and fluids and tylenol…. the only line of defense available.

They asked me repeatedly if I wanted to keep the DNR in place he specified years ago.  So I asked Dad what he wanted because he was totally lucid, after all.   He said – Keep the DNR in place, but I want hospital care if I get worse.

That whole time he did not appear to be too sick. He had no breathing difficulty and his color was good. He was comfortable.  Just the nagging fever that came and went, peaking at around 102 but coming back town with Tylenol, and some mild weakness that came and went.   We kept in touch with him via cell phone.

On June 5th I received a text in the afternoon that he was failing quickly.

What?..we just talked to him.

The text came back – you may come for a window visit.  You can’t come inside but you can go to his (first floor) window.  We’ll have his blinds up.

Are you telling me he’s dying??  we ..just… talked to him.

Yes. come.  His labs are not good.

And so we did.     What we found was my Dad, sitting in his recliner next to the big window in his room – looking like his normal self.  He was joking around, he was taking calls (I had family call to say their goodbyes without him knowing that specific reason) he stood up to adjust his clothes and he looked .. normal.    Through the outside window we had a decent visit and I honestly thought he was going to kick it, he seems pretty OK considering.   I thought the labs weren’t giving the whole picture.  I should have known the nurses of course know what they’re looking at.  I asked him one more time  – Dad you seem comfortable but would you like to go to the hospital where they have more options for care should you get worse?   No, I’m comfortable here, I want to stay.   It seemed reasonable, he wasn’t in any distress and seemed.. really ok.

At 5:30 am the next morning there was a voice mail on my phone and I knew without glancing at it that he was gone.

We’ve had a difficult relationship, my father and I.   I don’t really have the right words here.  What I know is, I tried to do right by him, and I think he tried to do right by me.. in the ways that he was capable. There was anger I don’t have reasonable words for.  From both of us.   I have struggled with that whole deal my whole life, and while I thought I was doing my best to do right by him in his last years, I am finding now that he’s truly gone that there are still… regrets.  Nagging little regrets.  Probably 15 differently little regrets that I could have done things just a little better.  The very thing I tried to avoid, but there it is.

_______________________________________

I know you’re not just resting in peace, Dad.  If there is  truly any concept of a Heaven… well, let’s face it… you’re in pergatory, where I would most likely land, myself.  So I hope you’re slapping another round of cards on the table among departed family and friends, telling a tale or two or three, throwing in a joke you’ve told a few times before.  I hope Sandy met you at the gate with tail wagging,  and I pray for calm seas and smooth sailing from here on out for you –

With love – your daughter xo

 

 

 

35 thoughts on “No. 15”

  1. You did a lot for your father, Karen, and he appreciated it in his own way, and “in his own way” is how he did most things. Y0ur regrets should be few and fleeting. Remember the good stuff and all the stories friends of his are sharing with you. mom

  2. My condolences to you and your family. You may have 15 little regrets, but (from reading your blog for years) I have a feeling you have had a tremendous amount of little unspoken successes.
    What a blessing to leave this earth feeling content and comfortable, know ing your loved ones are caring and concerned for you.

  3. I am so sorry for your loss. Sending hugs from afar.

  4. My condolences for your loss, Karen. I hope there may be some comfort in knowing that he went quickly, without undue suffering. That can be a blessing and a mercy. I had a difficult relationship at times with my father too (who was probably the same generation as yours) but people are people and there’s no point in having regrets about it. That’s my philosophy anyway.

    1. Yes definitely, the blessing of a quick passing without much struggle, and you’re so right. It is what it is. 💗

  5. I’m sorry to hear your news, Karen. I remember your previous posts about your struggles with your father. Not everyone has the same types of relationships with their parents. Still, it’s a time to adjust and feel and go through those stages. There’s no right or wrong way. Take care. -Jenn

  6. Fathers are funny. You want them to be like Beaver and Wally Cleaver’s dad…the father who sits there and listens to your problems and comes up with a solution..but that’s just a t.v. dad.

    My dad was tough. A Marine during WW II, he tried to run our home like boot camp, meaning if one of the seven of us stepped out of line, we were all punished, usually physically.

    To his credit, as he aged he truly did get better. There were less fights, arguments, etc and he went out of his way to help out his kids in any way he could. He didn’t like to show it but he was proud of each and every one of us.

    Some men are good at making kids, but not at raising them. Thankfully, you and I both had mothers who were loving and supportive and picked up the slack when our fathers failed us. (I get a sense of your mom by the things she writes about and to you),

    Bottom line, I don’t see that you failed your father at all. You cared enough about him to write about him occasionally, you visited him, took care of things for him and loved him. No regrets.

    Condolences to you and your family.

    1. Well Cheryl… you just made me cry. But in a good way. Thank you for these kind words, spot on. About my mom, too. 💗

  7. My heart hurts for you, Karen, of course in losing your dad but also the unresolved. As you may know, I had many issues with our mother, but you, like me, did for them what we could. I have admired the way you took care of your dad when he became unable to be independent. You were there. You did it for him. I was there, and did it for Mom. That is all that could be expected. Take heart, and be kind to yourself. xoxo

  8. I am so deeply sorry for your loss, Karen. They sound like platitudes but oh, they are so sincere. Your story breaks my heart — the suddenness and trying so hard to do the right thing has to make an already tough emotional situation even harder.

    I know about those 15 regrets — I think most of us have them, maybe not 15, maybe more or less. But take it from one who knows — look at this time of doing all you could, being all the daughter can and should be. You were present and that’s the most important thing. Please let those regrets slide into a soft, far away place and let the things you did that were good, times you may have had that were special, sit on the top where you can hold onto and cherish them. Be gentle with yourself, Karen. You deserve that gentleness and care as you grieve.

  9. I am truly sorry to hear of your Fathers passing, it sounds to me you have done the best you could with what you had to work with. Be kind to yourself, allow yourself the forgivness that you would give to a stranger. My condolences to you and your family. Peace be with you.

  10. Karen, the loss of a parent is hard, no matter the circumstances. Please accept my condolences to you and your family.

  11. I am sorry for your loss. Not everyone gets the parent they deserve.

    Someone close to me had a very difficult mother. She said that as more time past after her mother’s passing, the more the painful memories faded and the good memories became more pronounced. I hope the same happens for you.

  12. I am so sorry for your loss, and please extend my condolences to your Mother also.

  13. The loss of a parent is heartbreaking under the best of circumstances. You were trying as was he at the end, so go forward from there. May you and your whole family find some peace. Hugs to all of you.

  14. I am so very sorry for your loss. After I lost my father I found that over time my memories of him became sweeter and just of good times. He was a wonderful father, the best he knew how to be. He quit school in the 3rd grade to work in a mica mine for 10 cents an hour. Fought in the Battle of the Bulge, started his own company that grew and prospered. We were close though he was never someone I could talk with. I knew without a doubt of his love for his family. I pray your memories will become of the best of times. Hugs, Susan.

  15. Dear Karen,
    I am so sorry for your loss. Covid-19 is a strange disease. I am glad your father didn’t suffer and that you got to see him, even if only through the window.
    Thank you for sharing the photos of him. A life.

  16. I check in to your blog at least monthly, enjoying the stories you share. I’m so sorry for your loss. I felt compelled to post a comment in hopes that you find peace in your relationship with your dad. My message is simply to remember that “your best is good enough”. You did the best you knew how and/or were able and your dad probably the same. We all look back and wished we’d done “better” but don’t think that your efforts weren’t good enough, if you could have you would have, you did your best and that is good enough. It isn’t easy to accept sometimes, after losing my mom 13 years ago, I still need to remind myself that I did my best.

  17. I’m so sorry to read this Karen. I read recently that 80 percent of Covid related deaths were people in extended care facilities. So hard!

    I’ve followed your journey with your dad with great interest over the years (here and there you would speak to it yes?) and many of us daughters could relate. You always did the right thing.

    xxoo dear girl

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