I’m in the palliative care unit listening to my father take his last breaths. He smoked for many years and it’s finally caught up with him. Cancer ravaged his body. I am amazed at how slowly the body can take in a breath as each one gets further and further apart. He’s breathing through his mouth, so I occasionally place a swab in a mixture of water and lemon and rinse out his mouth.
The nurses say he doesn’t have long to go.
I have a swab in his mouth when I realize he’s no longer breathing. Bending down, I kiss his forehead.
“You could be a bastard, Dad, but I love you, and I hope you find Ma. I hope you find the happiness in the next life that you didn’t find in this one.”
Tears course down my face as I make my way to the nurses’ station. It’s three o’clock in the morning, and only two nurses are on at this time. No words are necessary.
The senior nurse pats my arm. “I’m sorry, honey.” She picks up his chart. “We’ll arrange everything. Go home and get some sleep. You’ve been here for a week, and I’m thinking it was only the two of you? Did you care for him at home, too?”
I nod as exhaustion takes hold of me, but I know sleep won’t claim me. Too many things are running around in my head. My father and I didn’t always have the best relationship. When my mother was alive, she kept him in line with his drinking, but that was five years ago. Dad’s probably been sober for the last six months, and it’s only because he was too sick to get out of bed, and there was no way I was going to supply it to him.
When my mother died, Dad went into depression and drank until he’d black out. He loved my mother in his own way. She was gunned down in a senseless robbery, and Dad couldn’t move past it, but he tried.
He reached out to my older brother, Dane. They hadn’t seen each other in over seventeen years, but Dane wouldn’t even speak to him. My father pleaded with Dane, but Dane’s response was always ‘no.’ He said he’d done his fair share of listening to Dad and wasn’t about to give him any more time. Dane said he was sorry, but he’d made peace with those demons years ago.
As I walk through the hospital, my father’s oncologist, Steve, stops me. “Emily, has your father passed?”
Steve’s a good doctor, but he’s made it more than obvious he’d like to date me. He’s nice, but I haven’t had a lot to do with the opposite sex, so I sort of fumble through our conversations. It’s not as if I haven’t had boyfriends. One was with a boy in high school, and we split up when we both went off to college. My second relationship was with a college boy, but we only dated for three months.
“Yes, just now.” I stare at him, not really taking him in. I need to leave this place.
“Can I do anything for you?” His eyes are full of sympathy.
“What am I going to do now?”
“Come with me, Em. I’ll get you a meal and something to drink.” My gaze follows him, and he gives me a small smile. “You don’t have any family left now, do you?”
“No, I have a brother.” Memories of him come flooding back, and I remember Dane let me go through all of this alone. When he left us all those years ago, he walked out on me, too. He left me with an abusive father and a mother who always made excuses for him.
“A brother? Why isn’t he here with you?”
I straighten my spine, square my shoulders, and say, “You’re right! Why isn’t he here with me? Why did I go through all of this alone?” My voice grows louder and more forceful.
“Em, you’re in shock, sweetheart. Let me help you.” His voice is soft, reassuring.
“No, Steve, thank you. Because of you, I now know what I need to do.” I touch him on the arm as I walk past him, out of the hospital, and to my car.
Tourmaline is a four day drive from here. On autopilot, I climb into my car and begin the journey.
Dane has a lot to answer for.
