I got the call again early this morning. My father had fallen. A firefighter got on the phone to ask me if I wanted my father transported to the hospital. He told me that he had my father as a teacher in high school and that he had really appreciated what he had done for him back then. I asked if Hospice had been callen since that was the instructions we had received. They had. I asked them to check with the Hospice case manager. They did. He went to the hospital.
When I got to the emergency exam room all I could see were his eyes. His blue/gray eyes seemed to be a much deeper blue than usual. Maybe it was just the exam room lighting. They had put a mask over his face. I had to wear a mask too. In that moment I couldn’t help but note how much love and reassurance can be expressed just through the eyes. I also could see his fear and confusion ease when I looked at him.
14 hours later I am finally home. I am exhausted. My father is confused about where he is and what is happening. Trying to explain it to him is futile. The only saving grace is that he still knows who I am and he knows he is loved. I can see it in his eyes.
Peace,
Ira
