I had other posts scheduled this week, but life took a turn.
Things aren’t always easier just because you know they’re coming.
My dad is in his last days. I saw him last Friday, and he even got to meet Scout and Jem. Knowing he met our future children, even for just a moment, was a blessing.
We knew he was getting weaker, that ALS was progressing, but he has beaten the odds. Most people with his form of ALS don’t live six months past diagnosis. I believe it’s because he was so fit. Even now he doesn’t look his age.
So it was easy to keep hoping…
But ALS eventually affects the diaphragm and breathing muscles. His lungs have gradually filled with secretions he can’t cough up, and when he aspirated vomit recently (his food often came back up even though he “ate” through a g-tube), that was final blow. We had the option of very invasive treatments that would not fix the problem, or we had the option to back off treatment and simply keep him comfortable. This is what he told us he wanted, back when he could talk, and we are respecting his wishes.
He texted my sister Monday evening that he felt bad and thought he had the flu, so we convinced him to let his brother drive him to the ER. Yesterday we were told he might not last 24 hours. He’s still here today, but we’ve transferred him to a nearby hospice center. We are blessed with family and friends close by, so we can take bedside shifts and he will not have to be alone.
But this is hard.
And yes, we’re still moving the kids in on Friday. So we could use a whole lot of prayers.
**Update: Dad passed the following day. I’m thankful to have been by his side.
Wife, mom, grandma. Introvert who finds joy in good books, sunshine, and authentic conversation. Fitness enthusiast and personal trainer. Often seen with a steaming mug of tea in hand.