The day my dad died I drove home from the hospital in a fog.
The smell of Mission Hospital emanated from my clothes. At a stoplight, my mind replayed all of it. The Brain hemorrhage. The beeping ER. The insensitive neurologist. The vinyl couch turned sleeping cot in his hospital room. His open mouth. Swabbing his dear open mouth. The sheet pulled over his face. My mind kept asking,
"Did we do all we could?"
"Did he know we'd stepped out when he took his last breath?"
" Did the hospital morgue treat our dad with respect?"
"HHHOOOOOONNNNKKKK" A lady slammed on her horn because the light had changed and I hadn't moved. She gave me the stink-eye as she swerved around me.
At the next light, our cars were side by side. She glared my way and I rolled my window down to tell her,
"My dad just died.... just right now."
Her angry face melted. Her eyes grew soft with empathy as she said,
"My dad too. It was six months ago, and then we lost mom 3 months ago."
The light changed before we could say more, but I knew.
I knew she and I were in this together as humans. Humans who watch our parents grow old and pass away, or watch them pass before they have the privilege of growing old. As humans, we question ourselves as to whether we did right by our parents, or whether our kids will do right by us.
If you are navigating life with an aging parent, navigating life after the loss of a parent, or navigating your own later life, I want to hear from you.
I want to learn from you, honor your journey, and if you are up for it, share your thoughts and stories in my book. My email is kerry@drkerryburnight.com.
With great love, Dr. Kerry