Expected But Never Desired

Truth be told, I am fortunate that I had nearly 41 years with my Dad in my life. I absolutely recognize that I am one of the lucky ones, that my Dad was there nearly every day for the first 17 years, and was only a phone call away the remainder of the time. There were trips and talks and memories, so many memories. And as a family we had end of life talks while people were of sound mind and body, because that is what responsible people do. Death has never been scary or not to be discussed, but even in that, it's still not something that anyone is actively rooting for.

As an adult of about 30-plus, you do start to come to grips with mortality, including that of your parents. And to be honest, if you hit 30, and your parents are around 60, you think 'hey, I can probably accept this... I'm a grown-up, they've done their job, I'm doing mine'. You do find ways to expect this particular outcome. At some point.

What I was ill-prepared for was the reality of it. The concerned phone calls from my family. The need to get on a plane as quickly as possible because there's something unknown but decidedly bad happening. More phone calls. The lack of pictures. The fast decline. The realization that the last time I heard my Dad's voice, I didn't know it was going to be the last time.

Expected. But never desired.

I wept multiple times when the reality of no cures, no surgeries, nothing short of miracles changing the outcome... when those hit me, that was the first series of waves. Wondering if I would be able to catch whatever the last flight out was, hoping that he would wait for me to see him. Hoping that he would recognize me in his way.

He did, even at 1am, both of us bleary-eyed him and him no longer speaking. There was recognition. I am so very grateful for that, for those last few days where I know he knew me, where there was no doubt that he knew my Mom. My Dad has always had the kindest eyes, and they spoke volumes when his voice no longer did.

I am one of the lucky ones. I had the ability to catch the flight, see him again, and even say 'see you later' (because goodbye never crossed my mind). I held his hand while he took his last breath, a last breath that we expected for nearly twelve hours. Expected, but never ever desired.

Nothing prepares you for that. Even when it is expected. But in my wildest moments, it was never ever ever desired.