When I was 6 years old I was hospitalized for a few days
because of a bad reaction to some medication. I was scared to death to stay
overnight. My parents stayed as long as they could but when it was time for
them to leave, they kissed me goodbye and walked out of my dark room into the
bright hallway. They waved again and walked out of sight to the left. I sobbed
even harder and stared at the door frame through my tear soaked face.
Then I saw my dad carefully peak around the door, trying to
look in on me without me noticing. Fat chance of that. I cried harder, “DADDY!” He hurried back in and leaned down to pick me
up and hold me. I must have drenched his neck and shirt. “Please don’t leave
me!” Mom and Dad held me close and
promised they’d be back in the morning when I woke up. It did nothing to console me. The stiff nurse
in her starched white dress and hat explained to my parents that it would be
better if they left and didn’t look back.
I’d fall asleep before I knew it. So we repeated this again until they
did leave for the night.
Other than feeling alone in the world for the first time, I
was ok but the following night my mom slept in the chair next to my bed.
Forty-one years later I remember this in vivid detail, down
to the stuffed Kermit the Frog they brought me the next day.
This is what I thought about as I sat there in a chair next
to my Dad, sleeping in his bed, dreaming and fighting throat cancer. Now I know
the anguish he felt at the prospect of having to leave me, scared and alone and
sick.
“You should go home and get some rest.” They tell me, the
angels at Wheatridge Manor. “Get a good night’s sleep.”
“I know. I will. I just don’t want him to wake up alone.”
“I’ll take good care of him.” His nurse Jessica promised me.
I have no doubts about that. She’s taken care of us both.
Please understand, I know he’s getting the best care he
could get, not just medically, but emotionally. I don’t have to worry about his
care when I’m not there.
These people love my dad. They tell me every day. They tell him every day. But they don’t have
to. I feel it. It’s like having the arms of heaven wrapped around him. …and me.
