You Are Never Ready to Say Good Bye to a Loved One: Two Important Lessons My Dad Gave Me in His Final Days

My dad fell in early November while doing chores around his house. He didn’t think it was serious and confirmed with his doctor. After a few days of increasing pain, he went to the emergency room and learned he had fractured a few of his lower vertebrae. He was scheduled for back surgery after a battery of tests. My three sisters and I talked to him before surgery fully expecting a positive outcome. He had his share of accidents and injuries throughout his life. And he always came through and returned to his active, stubborn self.

This post was originally published on my Working Mother Blog, Mom, Mayhem, Mission and More

We heard that his recovery was not going well although they were trying some more extreme measures. I flew out to Denver to be with my parents on the first flight I could get at 5:30 a.m. My dad rallying a bit after I arrived. But then he took a dramatic turn for the worse and passed away.

He had lived a long, full life on his own terms and left an impressive legacy of learning, teaching and service. But it was still shockingly sudden. The hole he leaves is huge and a lot of what I experienced is way too raw and painful and personal to share. Two powerful lessons I am taking away as final gifts from my Pops are:

Being there counts. When in doubt go . . for yourself and for those who can't

Living far from both our parents presents tough challenges in crisis times like these. I felt compelled to go after we got the troubling news Sunday night. I checked my schedule and saw an important review with senior leadership on Monday. I hesitated thinking maybe I should leave later in the week. One of my sisters reminded us all we had two decisions to make. One was whether to go now given the risk and the second was when to go to assist during the expected recovery phase. That was very clarifying for me because I was trying to answer both at the same time and this didn't work. The answer to the first question for me was, "Yes, I need to go now!" I then checked available flights and saw I could get out first thing the next morning. I impulsively booked the flights, knowing I could cancel within 24 hours, and it felt right. I knew my mom needed support although she wouldn’t ask because her kids all had busy lives. And my dad obviously did as well as both for himself and because I knew he would be very worried about my mom. Less obvious was my sisters' need to hear someone was going to be there in person and I was the only one who could make it happen quickly. I know it was not going to be a joyful experience. But my physical presence was crucial and there was no adequate remote substitute.

There are always reasons to be grateful. Actively look out for and treasure them.

In reflecting, I am filled with deep gratitude in addition to the heart stopping sadness which threatens to overwhelm all emotions if allowed. I am grateful for my husband, his mom suffered greatly in her last year of life, who said “Go!” with no questions asked. I am thankful for my Kindle team who gave the freedom to just leave and took over all my responsibilities. My sisters didn’t have this flexibility. I am thankful to my eldest who drove me to the airport at 3 a.m. on Monday blasting his favorite tunes. His love, laughter and support was precious as I headed to where I knew things would not be easy. I am so glad my mom did not go through these tough days alone and I could be there representing all four of her daughters who I knew desperately wanted to be there too. I am thankful to get the chance hear inspiring stories about my maternal grandfather from her for the first time. I have no words to describe the amazingly, loving support the nursing staff provided to my dad (and mom). His nurse, an imposingly tall young man, was completely invested in trying to find a way to heal my Dad. His eyes were full when he had to deliver news we weren’t ready to hear and stayed with us until we drove away from the hospital. He shared his father was also struggling and I felt the connection. I am super thankful that during my dad’s final hours in this world he was surrounded by people he loved who loved him back and reminded him of the incredible impact he had on so many.

I know the road ahead is tough for my mom and the rest of my family. But special memories, the kindness of those he touched, and his joy for life will help us get through.

I also blog at Adoptive Families Circle, Melting Pot Family, and my personal blogs: Balancing Motherhood and Career and Ethiopian Ties. You can find me on Twitter too ellenorea