The Hospice nurse told me today that the nurse who stayed Saturday thought he had a heart attack that night. I had been guessing maybe two more weeks at the most, based on Daddy’s refusal to let me put anything in his mouth. She told me to be thinking more like days. I’ve said my goodbye’s, tried to finish the sentences he was struggling to get out, and he’s ready – well past ready. I didn’t have to hear the individual words to know the cadence of his “I wish this would hurry up and get over with,” as I’ve been hearing that for some time now.
Saying goodbye is never easy, but our first Hospice experience taught us that it is important. Even if you don’t think the person is aware enough to hear you, the loving words need to be said. And if they can’t respond, you need to speak out loud for them, saying what you know they would say to you if they could. Not easy.