While my father’s death was terrifying, bloody and unexpected, I can take comfort in one small moment that took place just before he crashed in the ER.
I had just fetched him a blanket – he was cold from blood loss, although I did not know that at the time – and I stroked his bald head and gave him a kiss.
“I love you, daddy,” I said, after he thanked me for the blanket.
“I love you, too, honey,” my father replied.
Those were the last words he ever spoke to me. Minutes later I was crying, ushered away from his bedside by my mother, and then, as he mouthed the same words to her, my father passed out and the nurses and doctors surrounded him and pushed us out the door.
When I read Mamma Loves’ post about her grandmother’s regret at not having told her own father that she loved him before he died, and Mamma’s subsequent vow to always tell the people she cares for how she feels, I was moved.
Moved because of my own experience, and the comfort that I take from it.
Moved because there are members of my family who did not get to do the same, who did not get to say those three simple words that mean so much.
Moved by the story of Mamma’s friend, whose brother died all alone in the middle of the night, and of the anguish her friend feels because of that.
I was moved because it was such a human, deeply felt story that was perfectly rendered.
Mamma doesn’t post all the time, but when she does, she always hits an emotional target somewhere near the middle of my heart. Witness the three Perfect Post awards she was presented with today.
Mine was among them, for “I’ll Tell You I Love You.”
Mamma, we love you, too.
{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
Thank you so much! It’s people like you who’ve inspired me lately to write the more personal stories from my heart.
As I’ve said before, I’m so glad you had the chance to tell your dad and for him to tell you. Those three little words just mean so much.
Sometimes the world works in mysterious ways. I am so thankful to you for linking to that post.
This weekend my great grandmother was unexpectedly dying (from a medical mistake no less). We had a few hours of warning and in those hours four generations of family converged on the hospital all to say goodbye. Paradoxically, It was one of the happiest times for the family — we were all able to say that we loved her. In those moments, all of the petty family drama, the people who don’t speak, all came together to speak as one. It could not have been more perfect or more sad.
The post and your link confirm for me the importance of that moment. Thank you for always reminding us of what is good in this crazy world.
Oh boy. Her post made me cry.
At the same time, I don’t understand why people say that they don’t know if someone knew that they loved them. How could they not have known?
Great minds think alike – I almost nominated this very post. It was fabulous. I also loves me some Mamma.