Such Was His Way

Such was his way:

yesterday, my father returned home from the hospital to enter hospice care. Everything was set up for him to be comfortable and at peace, a visit from his nurse, questions concerning his illness in which my father participated veered in the course of his customary storytelling, along with voicing his concern for my own well being. 

such was his way. 

minutes before the day was to turn to morning I woke from a light sleep to sounds of my father distressed, agitated and came down to check his needs. He was unable to sleep and asked for another sleep aid, telling me his usual trick of counting numbers in a particular order wasn't working. Only a few minutes later my father passed away. 

he didn't quite make it to the new day.

honestly I have no idea what to write, if this is about my father, death, my own grief and struggle. All of it perhaps, a bit of everything. What I do is write, sharing my experience of moments that have a certain meaning to me, airing my thoughts to whoever happens to find my words. It's similar to my father's storytelling, just my way. 

little of what I write is planned, and there's as much time waiting for words to appear as there is actual writing. There's always a pause, free of expectations, and then a flow of words. I've learned to sit with stillness, a long silence that is its own reward.

so I sat with my father for a while in the early morning, hours before dawn, facing the day he didn't quite make. I held his hand and sat through the longest silence of my life, devastated by his stillness and yet sensing his peace, no longer a struggle for breath, but still somehow able to share his presence with me through these moments. From the depth of this stillness, no longer a place for words, he brought me peace, offered me a bit of grace in a moment most needed.

such was his way. 

~

Peace, Eric