I’m back at the hospital today, keeping watch on the ol’ man. He hasn’t improved since last night. Just barely communicating, still not opening his eyes, not responsive to questions. I asked him if he could pray the rosary and he said no. I said the Lord’s Prayer anyway, and then he mumbled “the hell with prayer.” So I said “ok if that’s the way you feel, I’m gonna hit you with a Hail Mary.” So I did, and then, unprompted, he said Grace: “Bless us O Lord and these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty through Christ our Lord Amen.” And not 30 seconds later, a nurse’s aid brought in a lunch tray. Funny. I fed him bean soup (“tastes like shit” he mumbled) but he finished the whole bowl and then he drank a whole cup of apple juice. So if he’s shutting down because he’s lost the will to live, I’m not sure why he’s willing to eat.
I wonder if he’d respond to some of his favorite classical music? Tomorrow, I think I’ll bring in a tape player and some headphones to see how he reponds.
I started reading the book “Tuesdays with Morrie” today. What a great way to die.
If Dad’s dying, this is a really lousy way to go. Nobody is here with him. There are no flowers, no phone calls, no visitors, and only one card — from a neighbor’s cat, of all things.
So I guess that’s why I’m now here with my Dad. Life’s trying to teach me how to die–and live… like Morrie.