After the next set of compressions, I back off as they shock him.
Nothing.I recenter myself over him and start a new round of compressions.
Rhonda calls out, “Anita, slow down the ventilation.”
The other nurse, Nancy, reconnects a pad that came loose from my dad’s chest.She smooths it over before stepping back.When I get close to the end of my count, Anita lifts the ventilation mask and backs up.I leave him again and watch and pray under my breath.
“Clear!”
The jolt rolls over his prone body.
“Anything?”At the same time, I move forward and press my fingers to his neck.
“I feel something, confirm.”Then my dad gasps and sucks in a gurgling breath, his chest rises and falls in a stutter.
Rhonda shouts behind me, “He’s back.Record the time.”
I grab my dad’s hand and squeeze it.“Just hold on, Pop.”Anita puts the regular oxygen mask over his face, and his jagged breaths return.
Movement out of the corner of my eye draws my attention.Mr.Nava has wheeled himself into the room and is watching us all from just inside the doorway.He’s leaning on one of the arms of his wheelchair, and his hand covers his mouth.We nod at each other.“You did the right thing,” he says.“He’d want more time with you.Would want you to have a chance to say goodbye.”
Anita, Rhonda, and Nancy move around me.They read his vitals and trade information about his stats back and forth.It’s white noise to me.The only thing I can focus on is each rattling breath my father takes.They’re gifts and somehow fill me with shame at the same time.
Moving close to my old man, I sit beside him on the edge of his bed.I watch him struggle for air while I grip his hand firmly in mine, holding on to him and stealing some time back from fate.I’m thinking only of myself, and my selfishness doesn’t escape me.The guilt is simply lower on the totem of emotions filling me to the brim.
I’ll pay for what I’ve done here, no doubt in my mind.
It’s my heart in charge at the moment, and the rest I’ll deal with later.
The minutes slide into hours, and then another day dawns.
I use the time to talk to him.I stay by his side and tell him everything I can think of about me and my life.I may not be able to know everything about him, but I can sure as hell tell him everything I’ve held back, details I’ve never shared with another soul, so before he goes, he knows all of me.
The moment comes.I feel it creeping up on me, like a fading connection, the strength of the bond we share withering.On the opposite end, within me, there’s a ball of anxiety, a knot stuck in my throat, a barrier between me and my ability to speak.
The last bit of control I have on my emotions is snapping taut.I know he needs to know I’m okay, and he can go now.I’ve said what I need to tell him, and I’m just waiting for him.
I want to be able to sayit’s okay to go.I love you, and I know it’s time.But those words just won’t come.Maybe because years ago, we swore to never lie to each other again.Not after I found him on the floor that day and had to watch as the paramedics performed CPR before they carried him out of our house on a stretcher to the ambulance.
Instead of voicing the lie, I do what I promised and give him the truth.
“Still upset you didn’t tell me.I can’t tell you what that did to me that day.Coming home from school to find you on the floor.It sent me spinning.I grew up thinking you were untouchable, unshakeable, and that day shook my world to the point it was no longer recognizable.”
His eyes flutter behind his eyelids, giving me the sense that maybe he can hear me.
“I don’t know if I’ll honestly ever forgive you for that.”
I sit on the edge of the bed and fix his blanket.
“There were things I’d always meant to ask you.Yeah, I know I should have done it before now, but it was just never the right time, you know?Like what was it about my mom that made her worthy of your love, and yet not mom material?I never understood that.”
This next one is a little harder to voice.“Did she ever… you know… reach out again… try to make contact?”Ask about me?Try to see me?
“Not something you can answer, but I need to get this out.I think it’s why I’m holding on.Still some things left unsaid and bottled up.I keep thinking, as I look at you this way, that I don’t want this for you.I don’t want you in pain, and I don’t want you to suffer anymore.You’ve suffered enough.I know you need to rest and move on.I know part of what is holding you back is me.”I give a humorless laugh and choke up.I stand and grasp the back of my head.
“Holy fuck, this is hard.”Tears are welling in my eyes, and I’m fighting them back, but they keep brimming.
I pace a few steps and speak.“I’m sorry.I feel like a little fucking kid suddenly, and I’m clinging to your leg for dear life because I’m afraid to face the world without you right here.”I shake my head.Turning, I place my hands on the bed beside his thigh and lean over, letting my head hang between my shoulders.The tears come.I wipe them away rapidly, but more fill those same spaces.
