I loved my father with all my heart.
I was a daddy’s girl, living for his compliments, doled out so judiciously that when he bestowed them, it overwhelmed me with pride.
Once, while I acted the fool at the dinner table, telling jokes and goofing off, he gave me a very high accolade, indeed.
“You,” he said, “have a very fine mind.”
I grinned.
“If only you would use it,” he finished.
My grin widened.
My dad died a terrible death. Yes, he had cancer, and yes, it was terminal. This I knew. I did not know I would bear the burden of watching him bleed to death.
He vomited blood and then he passed out in the ER. The doctors pulled a curtain as the nurses physically pulled us from the room.
The next time I saw him, he was on a ventilator and a pretty nurse with kind eyes told us he couldn’t feel any pain.
When we decided it was time to let him go, and the machines turned off, blood gushed from his nose and the corners of his mouth.
I cried out, and turned away.
Then I forced myself to look. To witness.
“I have to watch!” I yelled. “I have to watch!”
It was awful.
Yet I opened my eyes and took it in. It was my job to watch, to open my eyes to his death.
So tell me this:
If I am strong enough to watch my father’s lifeblood leave his body, to watch as his mortal soul made its painful passage, why can’t I stand to watch as another pretty young nurse with kind eyes puts a small needle in my son’s hand?
September 15th, 2008 at 12:36 am
Maybe because Shaggy feels the pain, that because you are his mother-his protector. But as I try to come up with answers that I am sure you don’t need, I think I will just offer you some hugs and positive thoughts.
Hugs, my friend.
September 15th, 2008 at 1:20 am
Yes, I send you warmth, too.
Friend, you are (and have been) trying to be present for it all.
It’s hard when the absurd symetry of hard-/heart-felt experiences doesn’t resolve the trauma of the earlier experience. Sometimes it just re-opens the wound.
Is there some rest for you this week? Some breaks?
September 15th, 2008 at 5:42 am
I wish I had the answer to this. Sometimes the tiniest things are the most unbearable. Sending peace and comfort for your day.
September 15th, 2008 at 6:09 am
It’s because he’s your son- a part of you. As parents, were supposed to do everything to protect those little beings we spawned, to make sure they don’t hurt.
I remember when Meenie had encephalitides. I wished more than anything that I could be the one laying there, the one who had the spinal tap, the tests and the IV’s. I would go down to the cafeteria alone and find a corner where I could cry. Where I could let out the emotion I was holding back from her.
I hope everything works out today!
September 15th, 2008 at 6:11 am
because he is your baby and everything in the world is 100 times harder when its your baby. hope you get to go home soon
September 15th, 2008 at 7:40 am
I can’t even watch when it’s me getting stuck in the arm. Hope you’re told Shaggy is fine.
September 15th, 2008 at 7:47 am
Because you are a loving mother who hurts when her child hurts. Wrap yourself in the comfort that you aren’t hardend to it. Even those of us who can watch, ache afterwards. L’s last CT scan just about did me in but it passed. Hang in there girl. We are here for you and Shaggy!
September 15th, 2008 at 7:53 am
Its understandable when you as a parent can’t stand it when a good looking nurse puts small needle in your son’s hand because that’s how loving parents are.They can take even bullets for their children. Its empathy.
September 15th, 2008 at 7:57 am
This is your cousin Jason’s wife. My prayers are with you and your family, and I totally understand where you’re coming from, but I think it’s easier for me because my parents died when I was young and I think that any time something is done to my boy it’s to keep him healthy and alive longer than my parents were. I hate it but thinking that eases the pain.
God be with you
September 15th, 2008 at 8:16 am
I don’t have the answer to your question, but I know that I wouldn’t be able to watch either. I crowd over CC’s little face trying to stare into his eyes when he gets shots.
September 15th, 2008 at 8:28 am
That is so hard! I think you had to be brave for your dad, to live up to what he expected. But for Shaggy it is, as others have said, all about being a mom & wanting to protect our children. Seeing our children suffer is one of the hardest things to do.
I hope he gets all better soon & you can go home!
September 15th, 2008 at 8:47 am
Oh. Just seeing your weekend posts. My thoughts are with you.
September 15th, 2008 at 9:04 am
don’t have an answer, love. just hugs. and more hugs.
September 15th, 2008 at 9:16 am
I’m going to echo a couple of other posters’ thoughts here: it’s unbearable watching Shaggy get pricked simply because you are his mother, with everything that word implies.
I take comfort in knowing my dad didn’t know what was coming and didn’t feel anything (at least that’s what the coroner told me).
Sending you hugs and know you and yours are in my prayers (as always).
September 15th, 2008 at 10:17 am
I’m just catching up on your last few posts. I’m so sorry to hear that the little guy (and his mom, dad, and sister) are going through this. I remember when Number Two was in the hospital for four days at three weeks of age. The worst was the spinal tap. Yeah. But I had a different reaction…I actually DID watch, whereas I used to be the type to hyperventilate if I so much as looked upon a needle. So maybe the answer to the riddle is that we, as parents, do things we’ve never done before because we, as parents, are now entirely different people than we were before.
September 15th, 2008 at 12:07 pm
I live here in the St. Louis area…if you need anything while here please let me know. When my first was born we lived far from family and he was a preemie, spent 18 days in the Nicu. I remember feeling so alone at the hospital. He’s now almost 22 and in the Air Force. Shaggy will also grow fast into a young man and these trying days will be a distant memory.
September 15th, 2008 at 12:39 pm
thinking of you and your family from here.
wishing i, too, could ease your pain.
it’s harder because they are you and you are them. and they look to you to make it better…they KNOW that we (as mommy) can make it better. and sometimes we can’t.
September 15th, 2008 at 1:36 pm
I have no idea. I was the same way with my little guy. When he had jaundice, there was one point that they screwed up drawing blood 3 times in 1 hour. At some point I just had to leave, because I couldn’t stand hearing him scream or holding him down to help them any more.
September 15th, 2008 at 1:57 pm
Living through one type of pain and fear doesn’t make another type of pain and fear any easier. I’m thinking of all of you and sending good thoughts.
September 15th, 2008 at 3:40 pm
I think its because we feel our children’s pain as if it were happen to us directly. I couldn’t be present during my son’s spinal tap - the doctor doing the procedure said most parents can’t handle it. And I agreed with him. I’m so sorry you went through that with your father.
September 15th, 2008 at 6:03 pm
OH! The pain.
September 15th, 2008 at 7:03 pm
Oh my God, how awful for you to see your Dad dying that way. Its no wonder your frightened at the hospital. Please God your little man will get better soon. Best Wishes.
September 15th, 2008 at 9:43 pm
Because we’re supposed to bear witness to our parents’ aging and passing. But it goes against everything in our being to see any harm come to our children. Relieved to hear that this will resolve on its own! But sorry you’re still there amongst all of the worry and sadness of so many others. I hope you’ll both be home soon.
September 15th, 2008 at 10:37 pm
I wish I knew.
Sometimes it’s the smaller day-to-day things that are the hardest to bear, I guess.
September 16th, 2008 at 12:44 am
Another amazing post… I think that it’s true what Kaza said - bearing witness to our parents lives is natural, but watching your child be harmed in any way… it’s just so hard! You are amazing.