A poem to my late father:
Your Last Day
The day that I last saw you, you were lying on your bed.
“You’re dad is really tired”, is what the nurse had said.
I did think you were sleeping, as you did that more and more.
Your disease had been rendering you weak, and you fell often on the floor
I called your name aloud, but you didn’t open your eyes
you continued to lay there with your Parkinson’s shake, arms laying by your side.
So I talked with you anyways, just like you were awake
and told you how I bought your favorite kind of milkshake.
I told you how everything was great and mom was doing OK
that you needn’t worry about a thing, and ‘Happy Father’s Day’
Before we left I told you I loved you and gave you a little kiss
I said I’d see you tomorrow and had your shake put in the fridge.
However, as I was leaving, I did not know that was actually ‘goodbye’
I received a call just hours later that my father had just died.
I wondered if my words were all that he needed to know
that hearing that everyone was OK was enough for him to let go.
Dad, now I look up to the sky and think of you every day
I’m eternally grateful that I visited you on your very last day.
Life can change in a blink of an eye. it’s scary but it’s true.
Tomorrow is never a guarantee. Dad, I miss and love you.
James M. Cheney – May 2, 1945 – June 16, 2014