6 Years

 6 years ago my dad went home.  One is never prepared to lose a father.  It all started October 24th with that 1am phone call, your dad is headed to the ER, he fell.  Once they figured out what was going on he had broken his hip on the fall.  Finally got him to a room and surgery was scheduled for the next day.  Knowing that if he slept he would wake up not knowing where he was with the dementia so I spent the night.  During the night they found out he also had a bad UTI, they stuck the catheter in and he continued to pull it out.  We had to fight him all night and eventually ended up putting on boxing mitts on him. He grabbed the string and pulled one loose enough to get it off.  So on to plan b to see how to keep it on.  They finally gave him some meds to sleep.  Next afternoon it had subsided enough to do the surgery.  They put a rod in.  They put him in ICU to keep an eye on him as he still had to have the catheter in.  He never recovered and after 4 days they moved him to Hospice.  He never woke up they kept him morphined up.  I know he knows I was there cos sometimes I would say something and he would smile.  Those women were angels the way they took care of my dad.  Someone brought in sandwiches and cookies daily for the break room.  My dad would often say mom I want to come home, I knew he was talking to my grandmother.  I told him to go.  He finally did but he waited til I went home on the 3rd.  The morning of the 4th the phone rang and they told dad had finally made that trip home.  A couple of days before I saw the bluish purple in his ankles and there was the death rattle.  There is nothing more scary than that.  

I miss him some days more than others.  That hole in my heart can never be repaired until I head home and the reunion begins.  I love you dad and I miss you more than I can say.