lassitude

in

lassitude \LASS-uh-tood; LASS-uh-tyood\, noun:
Lack of vitality or energy; weariness; listlessness

I guess that is what I am suffering from today. So many thoughts going through my head today, memories of last year. Thanksgiving day arriving at the nursing home to find they had dressed my father and propped him up in a chair. When they brought around his plate of food, I gave him a small forkful, which he pushed away, "too much, too much". He had already stopped eating, had already given up. Just the day befoe he had arrived when the hospital informed me that since they were not treating him for anything (other than dying) they would have to discharge him. Two days later on Saturday, he was already in death's throes. I liked the room he was in , he had it to himself, at least he didn't have to have a stranger witness his death. I'd brought some pictures from his apt. and placed them around the room and on the window, which was a large one with a nice view of a woody hillside. His nurse, Gabriella, surely an angel came at regular intervals to administer pain medication to try and make him comfortable. He was seeing things ? angels we liked to think. and counting them 1,2,3. He wanted us to count and seemed to take comfort in it. I was there the whole day and thankful to my good friend, Marilyn, who came and stayed with me. We left for a little while when he seemed to finally fall into a farily restful sleep. When we came back they told me that he was in a coma and probably wouldn't make it thru the night. It was preety upsetting seeing him this way, as this was the last image I have of my mother as well. I just wanted to go home( felt like a little girl again), so we left but when we got to the lobby I stopped and said to my friend that I felt guilty leaving him,that maybe I should stay, that I wouldn't want to die alone. My friend said he'd probably still be here in the morning and that it was allright,so I went home. Gabrielle called very early in the morning and told me that he had passed on a little while ago. I've felt badly that I left, still do, and probably always will.

4 comments:

MB said...

These memories can be so difficult. I wasn't present when my mother died, either. I did what I could, and must let go the rest. I'm only human and there's no lack of caring, that's for sure.

rdl said...

moose: I like what you said: I'm only human and there's no lack of caring, that's for sure.
I will try and remember that.
Thanks

FTS said...

My dad passed in a very similar way. I had visited him the night before and he was feeling better, so I skipped one night. I received a call very early that morning, and I always regretted having not gone that night.

You have to forgive yourself, though. None of us have any control over those things. We do as much as we can, and that doesn't mean we love any less.

rdl said...

fts: After I wrote this I thought of taking this post down, I'm glad I didn't. Thanks for your thoughts; they helped.