Friday, November 11, 2016

The Loss Before the Loss


On My father's "Yahrzeit" in 2016
I miss my dad - and came upon something I wrote years ago, while he was still alive. 
May his memory be a blessing and may his soul soar to the highest gates of heaven!

The Loss Before the Loss 

June 13, 2010
I forgot to call my father again today. There was a time when I never forgot even one day; a time when I looked forward to hearing his particular brand of rational wisdom. But, so many things have changed since that time.  For one thing, my father’s schedule is completely different; his days are so much shorter.  He sleeps much of the day and I can’t disturb him.  There is just a small window of time when I can be sure to reach him when he is not sleeping and not eating, and that’s between about 5 and 6 PM, which is usually a busy time of day for me. So, it becomes easy to forget. 

Dad can only talk about a very few topics, and at times he can’t even speak about those.  Each conversation becomes a continuous loop, where I can be repeating the exact same information several times as though for the first time. With each conversation I realize how little of my father is left.  He used to have a lion of a personality, with a stand on everything, in control, so sure in his opinions, so socially inclined, with a love of laughter. Now, he is like a ‘souvenir’ of my father.  He controls nothing in his life, has no social capability, no conversation, no opinions. He is often confused. 

Every now and then I receive a gift when he becomes himself for one moment in time. His personality returns, especially when he senses that either my brothers or I need him to defend us, or to care for us in any way. He reminds me to eat, sleep, and he encourages me to be the best mother to my children that I can be. He inquires about my husband. There are still times when I want to ask his advice like in the old days – trusting that he will understand my heart and intentions and help me find the right direction.

I confess that the biggest reason I tend to forget is hesitation. It isn’t the tedium of saying the same things over and over again that has become my challenge. It is my deep sense of loss. Now, with my father slipping away, I feel the loss of the near sacred protective shield of his love. How difficult it is to remind myself of this loss every day.