“The RoseBouquet”

Dad and I waited up until midnight for Ernie last Friday night. He showed up at 1:13 am. I slept through it but Dad woke enough to welcome him, and then they both went to bed in rooms directly opposite each other. I let them both sleep in, but both were at the breakfast table about 10 on Saturday morning.

Despite Dad’s hoarse, and tiny high voice, he began to tell Ernie stories after stories. They ranged all over his life. Ernie lapped it up and encouraged him to talk. In the afternoon they went outside for a bit to look for something Dad had missplaced, and Ernie got the bus plugged in and cleaned, and he also shovelled the garden path for me. (That snow canyon get deeper/higher(?) all the time).

When they came in Dad was telling stories again. I decided to give them more privacy, and I told Ernie that when Dad fell asleep he could join me downstairs as I’d like to have a chat with him too. It never happened. Ernie came down just when I was coming up to make supper.

After supper Dad went to his recliner but Ernie stayed in the kitchen, so while Dad dozed off I asked Ernie to give me his good listening ear for a while. I wanted to clear certain things up. I ended up getting an ear full and after a while Dad woke and joined us, hating to miss a thing.

Dad’s face and eyes were looking very baggy. I began to worry that he was emotionally and physically spent. Utterly spent!

He had mentioned just the day before that his toe nails needed clipping and that is quite a chore, so I suggested that Ernie might have a more steady hand, and he could do that for his Dad. So he did, using Dad’s super-duper clippers and electric dremel. (I took a photo which I think turned out quite well, but Ernie was aghast that I’d do such a vulgar thing, so now I hesitate to share it).

Sunday morning, Ernie planned to leave about 10 am and I needed to go by 9:30 so I took a couple of quick side-by-side photos of them, and then Ernie went out ahead of me and moved the bus so I could back out of the garage, and we parted ways.

Later Dad told me that Ernie had not left until about 11. But Dad was super exhausted, so I let him sleep all afternoon and evening. And all of Monday too. By the evening I saw he was getting dehydrated, and insisted he needed to drink more water. So he’s been trying, but sipping water tends to want to go down into his lungs, giving him coughing fits. Food doesn’t do that to him.

Dad had an appointment at our doctor yesterday. Dr. Bishop is so kind and understanding. He could see that Dad is failing faster, and is marking him down for palliative care. This means his prescriptions are free, and he can come into the hospital any time he wants, or we feel we can’t cope.