Gone, But Never Forgotten: Tribute to Dad

October 2, 2013 will be a day I will never forget. It was the day my father passed away at the age of 61 from cardiopulmonary arrest as a result of end stage renal disease and hypertension. The phone calls from the doctor received while at work, telling me my father heart stopped, sent shock waves throughout my whole entire body. I felt relieved when the doctor said he was revived, but when asked to rush to the hospital and be there; compelled me to ask this question: Is my father dying? The only answer given, he is in critical condition and very sick. When arriving at the hospital, I did not know what to expect. The security guard was at the door, telling my sister and I, you are not allowed in as a team of doctors crowd my fathers room at the Critical Care Unit. We waited in the waiting room, as a doctor greeted us with a grim look on her face. "Your father is not doing so good. His heart stops every 15 minutes as we are giving him medication to restart his heart and resuscitating him." Dad's heart stopped three times, but when I  heard over the loud speaker "Code 99" I said to myself, please don't let this be daddy. His heart stopped for a fourth time, as a doctor came in the waiting room and said; "I know your father, he is a very sick man. Do you want us to continue pressing hard on his chest, crushing his ribs? His heart stops every 15 minutes. You may want to sign a DNR (Do not resuscitate)." I looked at my sister, her eyes welled with tears, "He is suffering, sign the papers. He went through enough." When the papers were signed, they remove all medications given, we went in to see him in his room. My sister and I cried as dad was still and looked peaceful. I was in denial, I shook his head begging for him to talk to me. His chest heaving up and down, by a ventilator, the doctor came in our presence, using her stethoscope sound his heart not a single heart beat, turn to the machine where his vitals were monitored; his blood pressure read" XX/XXX" no longer a pulse, as he was pronounced dead, at 1:31 P.M.  I lost a father, a best friend and mentor. I said to myself, where do I go from here.

My Tribute to Dad

I shed many tears, had many sleepless nights as the passing of my father proved to be too much to bear. But, with each minute, hour, and each passing day, it becomes easier. We had our ups and downs, but it was fate that brought us closer together and a bond never to be broken. I thank God everyday, I made peace with him, and we were not at war. I thank God for dad being a provider and protector for the family. I thank God for blessing me with having you as my father. You were a man of great strength and character. A man who will give his last dollar to those in need. Your fighting spirit is inspiring as I think back at the many brushes you had with death, through God's mercy you survived, like a cat with nine lives. Through all your ailments, you lived life the way you wanted. You lived life according to your standards, and not through the eyes of others. I will never forget what you will always tell me, "I don't live my life for people. Who are people?" I didn't realize what this meant, but as I got older it made sense. 

Your wisdom and actions as a father showed you cared for me and my sister and wanted to protect us from the "bad" people in the world. I realize now, when you shared your opinion on the men I dated in the past and how they were "a waste of time," I never listened, but in the end you were right. I will miss talking to you, laughing with you, hearing your distinct laugh, the smell of your cologne as you are the missing piece of the puzzle no longer here. It pained me to see your health declined and the pain you endured day and night. The cries every night, I wish to God that there was a way I could ease it, to see that you were comfortable. I know you hated how I "babied" you, but I love you and wanted to care for you the best way I could. You hated when I cry, and would say " What you crying for.?" The nurse at the hospital would say to me, "Your dad says don't let the oldest one see me like this, she will cry." As your oldest daughter, I did cry, despite you not liking me to shed tears. 

I will remember being with you in the Emergency room on June 1st, on your birthday as I said to you, you lived to see this day. That was a special moment (not opportune) but he made it. I think about you in the Critical Care Unit, when you had the oxygen mask on, and as a man who loved to play numbers, you said I want you to buy me " 10 take five tickets." To confirm, he was always feisty and said to me " How can you be so daft." I said okay, dad I will buy them. I never purchase those tickets, as those were the last words he would ever say to me. I will hold on to the precious memories you left. I think back as a child, you teaching me how to pray, the importance of reading the bible and the value of working hard and being responsible. These are memories I will cherish for the rest of my life. You worked hard for over 30 years and did so until your illness in 2001 forced you to retire. You lived a fulfilled life, your way until the very end. I didn't want to believe you when you predicted your fate of not making it for the rest of the year. I said, "Dad, your a man of God have faith." Maybe, he didn't want to scare me and had a vision his time was near. 

When dad mouthed on his hospital bed "I am dying." I said, "did you say you were dying?". He nod his head and said yes. I refused to believe this, but after he passed away; I realized dad accepted his death and wanted me to know this and not to worry. He passed away peacefully, as I think of the pain he endured. No more dialysis. No more suffering. He is in a place where he can rest comfortably and in peace with God. I should not think selfishly, but positively that he no longer is in a toxic body full of ailments. I feel his presence and know he is watching over us. I find great peace talking to dad and letting him know, not a day that doesn't go by he is not missed. I know he would want us to move forward with our lives and be strong for him. This is not a good bye, but a see you later. Dad, we will meet again. Gone too soon, but never to be forgotten. I love you. May your soul rest in peace.