I Remember (Remembrance Series) (11 page)

Several weeks passed and I, somehow, managed to train my replacement, a wonderful girl named Terry, while learning to do my new job.

My days were completely consumed with work and my evenings focused on time with my parents. When Mom and I arrived home each night, I usually collapsed, unable to talk with Gregory.

My nightmare continued nightly, beginning with visions of my father and ending with warm arms surrounding me and Gregory whispering,
“We will get through this, together.”

Because of my schedule, his emails became fewer and further between. I knew I was to blame, having promised to write or call when I could. I just hadn’t had time.

One night, during gridlock traffic, I gave him a call. I felt it was only fair to explain my limited communication.

He was a little despondent. “Is everything ok? Did I call at a bad time?”

“No, please don’t go. I’m fine, just in the middle of a project at work. Give me a second to save my work and I am all yours.”

“Okay. Give me a minute, too; I need to plug in the charger. I forgot to recharge last night and it is almost out of…” The phone went dead.

As soon as I found my charger and plugged in the phone, it was ringing.

“Jordan? Are you okay?” Gregory’s voice was full of panic.

“I’m fine; just dropped your call. I want to apologize for not keeping in touch like I should and to say that you were right. My life is chaotic right now and somehow it just keeps getting crazier. My training is almost done, which couldn’t happen at a better time, because my father is getting weaker.”

There was silence on the other end. “I will understand if you no longer want to talk.”

“Don’t be silly. The highlight of my day is when I talk with you. I understand what is going on and I feel for you; but your schedule is nearly impossible. I am in awe that you have been able to last this long. Truthfully, I would’ve been passed out by now.”

I let out a small laugh. “Actually, that’s why I haven’t been calling you or answering my phone at nights.”

“You need to take care of yourself. If you get too exhausted, how can you be of any use to your family, your employer or, let alone, yourself?” His voice was full of concern. “I wish we had met earlier, so I could help take care of you.”

“Don’t worry about keeping up constant communication All I ask is that you write or call when you can; and I will be waiting for the chance to get to know you better. Remember, if you need me for anything, just call.”

Gregory was still too good to be true. It felt as though we had known each other for years, despite only talking for a few weeks.

“Your patience and understanding means the world to me.”

“Not to worry, sweetie, life has gotten a bit hectic with me, too. I have a huge project I’m dealing with at work, so I find myself working longer hours, lately. I hope to have it wrapped up in the next couple of weeks. Until then, take care of yourself or I will worry about you.”

“I will, as long as you do the same.”

Dad’s health was declining fast. We talked with a hospice nurse, trying to arrange for him to spend time at home. But, an evaluation of his condition made us realize how critical things were.

The nurse explained, “I am afraid we can’t move your husband at this point. Based on his vital signs, he is in the final stages of cancer and moving him would be too stressful on his body.”

“How could this happen so quickly?” I managed to ask between tears.

“When a patient decides to give into the disease, the illness can spread quickly.” The nurse was very sympathetic, even shedding a few tears of her own, for someone she hardly knew.

Mom asked, “Do you have any idea how long we might have?”

“No one can be certain, it mainly depends on William. My guess would be a week, maybe two.”

“What do you suggest?” I asked.

“Keep him as comfortable as possible. Pain medication and the love you have for him will be the greatest gifts you can offer.”

Mom and I both agreed. If he asked about the move, we would just say that we are trying to make arrangements. The goal was to cause as little stress as possible.

A few days later, I received an unexpected call from my mom. “Jordan, just wanted to let you know what the nurse told me, today. Apparently your dad either had a bad dream last night. There was a bit of an incident.”

“Is he ok?”

“He’s fine. They think he mistook his dream for reality. He thought you were in danger and tried to come to your rescue. The nurse went to check on him because a couple of lines from his heart monitor got disconnected and she found him walking across the floor toward the door. They had to give him a sedative to calm him down; he was adamant you were in danger from the darkness.”

A chill ran through me. That had been my nightmare for some time now.
How could he know?

“He’s in better spirits, today. He remembers a little about the dream, but realizes it was just his imagination. I reassured him you were at work and would be coming by to see him, later tonight.”

“Thank goodness. I wish I could talk longer, but I need to finish up a few things so I can get on the road. Love you, Mom!”

“Love you too, honey.”

Dad and I had a wonderful visit that night, reminiscing about our favorite times together.

Later that night, either my fatigue or the incident with my father caused the haunting dream to come back, full force. I was in the dark room again, staring at a black and white film of Daniel and Angeline laughing and flirting over tea. I watched the image morph into one of me and Gregory. Suddenly, fog began creeping along the ground and quickly enveloped them, changing the scene from a garden to my father’s hospital room. I saw my father’s luminous glow dance in the air for a few moments before exploding. The only reassurance I received was Gregory’s voice.
“Everything will be all right. We will get through this together.”

The following night Dad’s ability to sit up and his appetite decreased even further. We notified all the family and I called Caroline at home, letting her know I needed time off. Thankfully, she told me to take as much time as I needed, but to keep her updated on what was going on.

The next few days were a blur. The few conversations we had were of Dad’s choosing, usually about sports and old movies.

A couple of times I gave Mom and Dad privacy to talk, while I walked the hallways and cleared my head. I took that time to call in and update everyone, including Gregory, on the situation. The emotional stress was taking its toll.

He was always the optimist, trying to meet me well before I was ready. “Is there anything I can do for you, Jordan?”

My heart desired to have him hold me in his arms and tell me, like in my dreams,
“Everything will be all right. We will get through this together.”
But, I didn’t want him to be interested in me based on sympathy or pity.

“I appreciate the offer, but would rather our first meeting be under better circumstances. I was just calling to let you know what was going on and to say I am sorry for…”

“Jordan, please don’t worry about me. I look forward to one day meeting you, but all in due time.”

“Please call me if you need me. You don’t know how much I wish we knew each other better so I could be there for you.”

“I wish the same thing. I could really use a hug right now.” I hated myself for admitting this.

“Consider yourself hugged!”

“I should probably get back. I just wanted to give them some time alone and had a few phone calls to make, mainly to you and work. I still cannot thank you enough for the use of the phone. You are a lifesaver.”

“My pleasure. Please give my best to your parents and let me know how things are.”

“Bye, Gregory.”

“Take care and know I will always be here for you, Jordan.”

I felt a little better as I headed back to the hospital room. Mom and Dad were holding hands as I walked in.

I walked over and placed my hand on top of theirs and gave them a squeeze and smiled. Dad’s hands were no longer warm to the touch. “I love you both so much!”

Mom gave a quick smile, though you could see worry in her eyes.

Dad gave me the biggest smile I had seen in a long time. “We love you, too, Jordan! Where is your husband?”

I gave a puzzled look to Mom as she lifted her shoulders with uncertainty.

“Dad, what are you talking about? I’m not married.”

“Yes you are! Where’s your husband? I want to talk to him.” He was very matter of fact.

My eyes pleaded for Mom to assist me. “William, she’s not married. What husband are you referring to?”

Dad looked puzzled for a second and then switched to a look of reflection. “My apologies. I forgot, you’re not married, yet.”

Mom and I exchanged questioning glances and disregarded the statement as nothing more than part of the illness, causing delusions. However, a part of me wondered what he had seen. Lately he was referring more and more to the future and the darkness.

Dad slipped into a coma that night. Mom and I continued to talk to him, letting him know how much we loved him and how he would always be in our hearts, forever. We held his hands and told him we wanted him with us, but if he felt the pull to be somewhere else, to not fight it anymore and that we would, one day, be together, again.

As his breathing began to labor, Mom and I tried to talk about upbeat, positive things, reminiscing over the wonderful things we did as a family, especially our times at the beach.

Try as we might, neither one of us could sleep that night. By the light of dawn, Dad’s hands were like ice and we could sense the end was near. We each gave him a gentle hug, as he gasped one, final breath.

I must have been sleep deprived, because I thought I saw a shiny spark rise up from him and a brilliant glow fill the room. I laid my hand on Dad’s chest, not taking my eyes off of the brilliance. After his heart beat, for the last time, both he and the glow were gone. This was my nightmare.
How did I see this?

The nurse, Helen, walked into the room and embraced both of us. “You did everything you could for him. Now he is at peace. He’ll always be a part of your heart.”

We were very thankful we had listened to Dad’s brother, Uncle Henry, who advised us to make final arrangements, while we still had our wits about us.

To our surprise, Dad had already picked out a suit to be buried in, along with a tie I had bought him as a little girl. He had asked us to bring it to the hospital, just in case.

Helen led us to the waiting area, while she made a few phone calls and got the necessary paperwork ready.

While Mom was signing the documents and gathering our personal belongings, I was on my phone calling work to let them know my father had passed. Caroline offered her deepest sympathies and asked that I let her know when the service would be held.

We dropped by the funeral home to finalize viewing times and the location of the memorial service. We wanted to go ahead and lay Dad’s body to rest as soon as possible, wanting him completely at peace.

Mom and I agreed to have a small service at the funeral home’s private chapel, along with a few words spoken at the graveside. We asked if it would be possible to alter the procession route to the cemetery since it was only a short distance from our house, to allow my father ‘one last trip home,’ since that was his final wish.

We were happy that we could have the viewing on Sunday, late in the afternoon and burial on Monday morning.

It was mid-afternoon by the time we got back to the house. Mom lay down on the sofa to nap because it was just too hard to go back into the bedroom she and Dad had shared for twenty-five years.

Not wanting to disturb her, I went to my room, to call everyone and give them details of the services.

I called Caroline with the details of the service. I knew they needed me back with Linda leaving soon, but asked for another week off, citing the service, as well as my needing time to grieve and gather my strength before coming back. Thankfully, she agreed.

My next calls were to friends in Clewiston. It was quite small and almost everyone knew everyone else, so with only a few calls, word would get out of Dad’s passing.