On my way

As I type this out, I am on the Eurostar on my way to say goodbye to Dad. He is now in a palliative care hospice. It looks lovely from the photos I have seen and means there is no more pain for him to suffer.

In my mind, I had grieved the passing of my dad. A while back, he stopped recognising us. For months now, and he has been fading away and spending most of his days asleep. He has not been in the distress I have seen other Alzheimer’s sufferers have to cope with: a saving grace. But, all that seemed to be left was his cage of a body.

And yet, the closer I get to him, the more I am grasping that we are really going to lose him.

It will be a relief in many ways: especially for him.

But it will mean be a new wave of grief. I naively had persuaded myself that this would not be the case: that I was over it. I was trying to kid myself that I could take a Buddhist-style approach of accepting the situation. I do not possess that level of enlightenment or intelligence. It fucking hurts.

Lovely friends had reached out and had told me that I had to speak to him and hold him before he goes. I am grateful for that advice. Thank you, guys.

It also means I can see my beloved sister who has been shouldering the whole thing since dad had his accident nearly two weeks ago.

I am not going to lie: there is an element of fear at what I am going to encounter but I know this will be dispelled as soon as I am with dad.