Welcome to part four of the Restoration series. In case you’ve missed out, you can get caught up here:
The Beginning of Restoration
She Really Answered – Part Two of the Restoration Series
Finally We Meet – Part Three of the Restoration Series
We finally ordered, filled our plates at the salad bar, and there was that known silence in the air that the unavoidable subject was about to begin.
I wasn’t ready for the truth that would soon hit me.
She talked about the sadness she felt not being able to attend my dad’s funeral. I told her that five people gave their lives to Christ at his funeral. She smiled as she told me that prior to his death, he had called and let her know he had given his life to Jesus as well. I wanted to sob my heart out that moment in joy, but the tears wouldn’t come. I had always wondered if it was something that he had kept between me, him, and God. I was thrilled to know he hadn’t.
I told her about the three weeks I spent with him, waking up every morning to tell him goodbye as he lie in the bed waiting for his daily visit from the Hospice nurse. We wondered if everyday would be the day. For three weeks I fed him, gave him medicine, read him the Bible, rubbed his feet and slept in the chair next to him. Sometimes I would just sit there and watch him, wishing I could turn the clock back 20 years and be his little girl.
I told her about the night the amublance brought him home to die. The hospital bed hadn’t yet been delivered, so he slept in the bed with me. He put his arm around me in his sleep, unkowingly. It was only the second time in my life I remembered snuggling in bed with my dad. When the sun began to rise and I knew the day was starting, I wanted it to be dark again. I knew that was the last time I would ever be held in the arms of my dad again.
I told her about the guilt I had felt, thinking I was killing my own father after finding out he wasn’t actually dying, but simply overdosing due to doctor’s orders. I was injecting my dad with so much medicine that it was killing him and I didn’t even know it. After realizing that, I took him to the hospital where doctor’s were going to get him back on track. After planning his funeral together, we both had hope that there wouldn’t be one for a long time to come. He was getting on track back to better health.
There wasn’t… For another month anyway.
We took a quick break to breathe and use the restroom, as we were both very well aware that the conversation was taking a toll on both of our emotions. When we returned it was her to talk. Had I known what she was going to say I would have stayed in the bathroom forever. She had decided prior to us meeting that she was going to be truthful, regarldess of the pain it may cause. She felt it was the right thing to do. And it was, even though it hurt.
“Your dad called me before he died,” she said quietly.
I knew a blow was about to hit me.
My dad had been looking for a ride to not only get some drugs, but sell some as well. Here was a man that weighed less than 100 pounds, walked around with a feeding tube and another tube attached to drain the fluid from his lungs, and too sick to care for himself, still trying to feed his addiction.
I couldn’t take another bite of edamame after that. I wasn’t hungry. I wasn’t thirsty. I’m not really sure what I was, or still am to be honest. This is the first time I have put this into writing and I’m struggling to believe the truth on the page. He was so lost in his addiction that nothing could keep him from it.
She refused to pick him up, or even come see him for that matter. She had no idea he was going to pass away shortly after that or she might have went to see him, but she knew she had to be strong and tell him no. She couldn’t be a part of feeding his habit.
I wanted to climb over the booth and hug her. I wanted to tell her I was sorry that he had even put her through that. I wanted to validate her feelings.
But…
I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t say anything. I just nodded my head and continued to listen. My heart was dying inside and I was trying everything I could to pretend like I hadn’t heard what she was saying.
If only that would have been the worst of it.
To be continued…
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