Rest in Peace, Dad

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Categories: Crappy Adulthood Problems, letter to my father, Old People, parkinson's disease | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

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