Pack Your Bags

On the advice of a nurse I did pack my bags, I heard him speak in the background.

They were the last words that I ever would hear, but I didn’t know.

I packed in a rush, my heart was so low, and I kissed my family goodbye.

I drove on the road, the snow covered road over mountains in the dead of the winter.

My mind was racing, there was nothing I could do, and the end, was rushing forward.

I drove through the gate, with emotions that were put down.

My sister, her husband, the last caretakers of the man who cared for me.

I worked up my courage to walk down the stairs to the room where the man lies.

Each step a labor, a helpless labor.

He looked comfortable there with his bed raised up, although closed were his eyes as he breathed.

One finger he had placed into the corner of his mouth, like a child sleeping.

I sat down beside him, and put his hand in mine, and told him that he was loved.

I could feel a slight grasp, so I knew that he had heard me say goodbye.

The room was so calm, peacefulness hung in the air.

His labored breathing was steady, but gurgling meant his time was near.

I had seen this before with my sister years passed, it was her birthday the day before.

The man was talking that day and had no sense of time, but he knew of his daughter’s birthday.

“How did you know of her birthday today?” He was asked.

“Because she told me” he replied.

With this I did know, he was going to go, with those that would show him the way.

We are now all alone, my sister and I. Our families are closer than ever.

I still pick up the phone to call home to the father that was always there.