This morning, at 7:15 AM, my father, Allison Francis Page, died of C Diff, which had lead to a systemic infection that he was too weak to battle. We were told he was in serious condition but holding his own when we left the hospital at 6:00 PM, but at 11:00 PM the doctor called to say he had taken a turn for the worse, and we should come to see him ASAP.
I arrived from one direction, Luke and Mary from another. (Catherine ad returned to Michigan on Tuesday.) Allison was doing a little better with the massive amount of meds they were giving him, so we retired to the waiting room with pillows and blankets about 1:00 AM. At 3:00 the nurse woke us: he was doing much worse. We rushed down the hall to find him struggling to breath. I will spare you the next four hours, but I will say my brother was in strong denial, and wanted the treatments continued. It took 3 long hours before the nurse and a doctor convinced him the Allison was not going to tolerate more treatment, and they should be withdrawn so he could die in peace. He finally sad no more massive meds, just make him comfortable with lots of morphine.
Luke and Allison had a good father-son relationship, and Luke wept more than I've ever seen him, leaving periodically to sob somewhere else. Mary and I stood by Allison's bed for four hours, until he died, then I stayed with the body for a while, trying to figure out what had just happened. And why? I am sad because we were not close-at times I came close to hating him, other times he surprised me with his admiration and love. And he was my father and I loved him
I am quite shell shocked, as well as sleep deprived.. To lose both parents in four days seems excessive. I will wait until I home to even touch the pain and loss. Staying in their apartment makes me feel as if they might walk in any minute, and it's a way of both denial and holding them close, here in their home, which will soon disappear completely.
Catherine and I will have one last trip out here to divide the household goods, then I never want to set foot in Colorado again. I cannot wait to fly home Saturday, even though I am loath to leave. Confusing, isn't it?
I realize I am jealous that Luke lured them out here, and his kids got to have then at ball games and graduations. And I feel petty for being jealous. Every time I've been out here for the last 17 years I have spent my time driving mom to market or the hair dressers, or taking her shopping in stores that had nothing that fit me. (Though I must admit I have a couple of pieces of nice jewelry from shopping together.) And lately it has to visit them in that damned hospital, or to help out after a surgery.
It was only a vacation the two times we went to Taos, NM. And she apologized to me that we never made the last promised trip there the day before she died. I told her I would go for us, knowing quite well that it is beyond my means.
I am beyond tired now, and will end this to go to sleep. I feel as if the last forever postings have been more and more depressive, and I thank you for hanging in as I struggle on this next part of my journey.
Many Blessings, Margo