They TRIED To Get Me

Jul 09, 2024

Tales From the Dad Side: 2

Last week I posted a new tattoo on my social media, and there were few people asking what it meant, so here is the story.

Dad had been in hospice for the better part of the last six months of his life, something he chose. He was tired of all of the doctors and all of the suggestions of therapies and surgeries that he knew would not give him any measurable quality of life. He’d finally come to terms with age and illness and had transitioned from a deep and valid fear to an acceptance, and a welcome. And he wanted to do it on HIS terms.

As difficult as it was to watch my daddy slip away, I always stayed open to HIS feelings on the matter. He had just turned 87, and he’d been in ill health for several years. He’d had chronic pain for decades, and the man was tired.

Two weeks before he passed, I arrived for a visit and was shocked to see that the living room in my parents’ home had been rearranged. The couch was gone and hospital bed was in its place. Dad’s lift chair remained, so that’s where my mother was sleeping.

Dad was stationed near a big window where he had enough natural light, and he could see the television. (He was a huge Dr. Phil and Judge Judy fan – but only because he loved talking about how obnoxious and wrong he thought they were) This context is needed for the story to make total sense.

The night before he passed, my mother had to change his sheets. It had been 2 weeks since the last time he had been in a standing position, so when she helped him stand up – he blacked out. Fortunately, he fell onto the bed, and she was able to move him back into position.

Mom said he was unresponsive for a time, and that his breathing became shallow and very ragged. (Dad had COPD and CHF, so his breathing had been deteriorating for weeks despite the 24 hour oxygen) Eventually, his breathing began to relaxed and became more stable. He briefly woke up, looked at my mom and said “They TRIED to get me!” and chuckled (he had the best chuckle). After that, he told her he loved her, and went back to sleep.

And that was the last time he would wake.

I’m sharing this now, because I wouldn’t have been able to get this out before – even though my screen just blurred.

My dad was my best friend. He’s my status stick for everyone. And if he thought you were an asshole, you were probably an asshole. My former officer dad was ACAB, a former Army MP who loathed the military complex, even if he understood it. He made me who I am. So, thank Chuck. Or don’t.

But if you talk shit – I’ll send Grandma Charlie to your house to loosen your lightbulbs and drain the Freon from your ac unit.