My Father... The Final Chapter.

Papá died at 4:20 PM local time, on Sunday, October 12^th 2008. He died in his bed, peacefully, as he became after the priest gave him the last rites. He was 86 years, 9 month and 25 days old.

 

I got to their place on Friday, October 10^th at about 11 PM.  I realized at that time the situation was more precarious that I had anticipated; as it turns out, he had deteriorated quite a bit since earlier that day when he had been able to talk to my cousin Luis who came from Carúpano to see him, and my brother-in-law César; but unfortunately, by the time I got there he was no longer able to articulate words; only unintelligible sounds... He spent a very restless night and neither Nenón nor I slept much.

 

On Saturday morning, at his request, I picked him up from bed and sat him in a wheel chair; brought him out to the living room for a little bit of natural light and fresh air; also to see if I could talk to him. I spoke to him for about an hour; I told him all about Jan and all his granddaughters from me, the house in Tennessee, my new job, all that I knew would bring him joy... He requested to go back to bed, I obliged. Subsequently I called Manolo who came right away; he ordered an IV to be applied to Papá for hydration and basic nutrition purposes. He also called me aside and said that this was only to give him a little comfort; that this was the end game; that there was no recovering from this; that even though his vital signs were still within normal range, it was a matter of a couple of days, or a couple of weeks, or a couple of months depending on the stage of his decline. Luis, my cousin, cooked for us that day and we had an early, and extraordinarily tasteful, dinner. Afterwards, Manolo gave Luis and Alba a ride down to Caracas as they were returning to Carúpano, by bus, during the night. Before leaving, Manolo said to tell Ligia to call him when Papá passed to save her lots of aggravation and paper work by being the attending and certifying physician. After cleaning up, we went to bed, and Papá continued to be very restless; sleep did not come easy during the whole night.

 

Sunday came with visitors; Papá’s cousins Zhayra, Ilse and Josefina came by at around 1 PM. Noel Mora, another cousin of ours and Reina, his wife, came over just as I was getting ready to go to the airport. Earlier, Ligia had stopped by the parish on the way over my parents’ to ask the priest to come by, but he had a cold and said he would send some Eucharistic Ministers over. At around 2:20 PM I said my goodbyes; I kissed Papá and said goodbye to him; I told him that we would see each other again, in a different place, but that we would meet again for sure, assuming he had little time left and that he would die with me not being there; he assented and I left the room. Alejandro, Mireya (Alejandro’s fiancée who had been around and being part of the whole process) and I left for the airport; simultaneously, Noel and Reina decided to go fetch another priest.

 

As Alejandro was slowing down to drop me off at the airport at around 3:15 PM, Ana Gabriela called and said that Papá had died. I told Alejandro not to stop and  to drive back to San Antonio. I immediately called Jan and let her know; also left a message for Clarissa Ane. As we were turning, Ligia called and said he had not died; apparently, when the priest came and gave him the Last Rites, he exhaled with such relief and went into such a restful state that Ana Gabriela thought he had died. But Ligia also said the priest had confided with her that he thought Papá had no more than a few hours left; we kept on going back to San Antonio. We got back home at around 4PM and he had changed; he seemed to have gone into a calm sleep, breathing at a good rhythm; I told him that I was back and I believe he moved his eyebrows (I’d like to think he acknowledged that); I looked at his fingernails and they had changed: they were purple now… Nenón laid next to him and I stood bed-side watching his breathing. It started gradually to slow down and to get shallow; it went from a breath every three seconds to every five seconds and so on; every time the breathing got slower I would take his pulse, and it was still there. When it got to about 10 seconds apart I called Ligia who was in the living room with all the visitors and she came in and sat next to him on the side of the bed. At 4:20 the breathing stopped; I checked his pulse by his neck and his wrist and there was none; he was gone. It started to rain, actually to storm heavily. I called Jan again and let her know it was for sure this time. I called Clarissa Ane whom I asked to call Valentina. I called Manolo who said he was on his way. I called my boss and let him know. I called the airline to change flights to Wednesday. While I was doing all this calling, Ana Gabriela – as a lawyer – was making all the needed calls to all pertinent bodies to put all the administrative, legal and logistics wheels in motion. Manolo came with Milena, his oldest sister, and filled out all the medical/legal forms for Ana Gabriela. Even though Papá had prepaid funeral services and a burial plot of land, we decided in a family conclave not to use the funeral services since that part of town had gone real bad since Papá had bought those services, and to cremate him as it had been his wish, instead of using the land. The funeral and cremation were scheduled for Monday. Alejandro took me to a store to buy funeral clothes since I had not gone prepared for this. At about 10:30PM the funeral home came to take his body away; Ligia had selected the clothes Papá would wear last. Everybody left. Nenón had a rough night, the third one in a row; with her heart condition, rest (along with medication and diet) is one of the key elements to prolong her life and she had had none lately…

 

On Monday the 13^th the viewing was from 11:00AM to around 3:00PM; many people came, many of them Rodríguez cousins who had met him in the family reunions, and had come to appreciate him as the oldest of all cousins. On my mother’s side three of our cousins came: Noel, Carolina (Nicolas’ daughter) and Charito (Luis’ sister). Luis called all sad since he could not be there (could not find a way to get back to Caracas in time). Nicolas, one of Nenón’s brothers came and Priscilla, one of Nenón’s sisters (Noel’s mother) also came. Many of Ligia’s neighbors and old and new friends, most of Cesar’s brother and sisters, Ana Gabriela’s friends and Salvador’s family, Alejandro and Mireya’s boss and coworkers (closed the office) also came. Manolo was there. At around 3:00PM staff from the crematorium came with forms for Nenón to sign and release the body for cremation; they took him away. I received his ashes and signed the receipt at around 5PM; and we all left. Alejandro gave Manolo and two of his co-workers a ride, along with Mireya. Ana Gabriela and Salvador rode in their car. Cesar, Ligia Nenón, Papá (now in a little box on my lap) and I rode back to Ligia’s. Later Nenón had the roughest night yet… They had been married for 58 years, two months and 27 days.

 

As a family, we decided that Nenón will eventually move in with Ligia; she weighted her wants/needs for being still the mistress of her household versus having full companionship from, and be useful to, Ligia; she agreed to the move. Meanwhile they will take their time to properly dispose of her household, in an orderly and sensible manner. Also eventually, Ana Gabriela and Salvador will move into Nenón’s current apartment. Meanwhile, Nenón and Ligia will sleep in the same place, some nights at Nenón’s, most times at Ligia’s, until all is done.

 

I left Venezuela on Wednesday October 15^th in the afternoon and it was still raining…

 

My Father

I am going to see Papá this weekend; leaving from Miami after work on Friday evening, an 8:30 PM flight, and coming back on Sunday evening. It is a very short trip (expensive one too - $1,000 bucks for the ticket), but it is the best I can do right now given the fact that I just started a new job in July and have no vacations yet...

Some time ago, about three month, my father self-diagnosed with terminal cancer; now, I learned recently (last week) from Ligia - my sister, he does have cancer and has had it for a while; he has had bone cancer for over 3 years, but the oncologist has always said that there is nothing to do and nothing to worry about. So, about three month ago he fell and injured a leg he had broken some 10 years ago. Since the pain did not go away in a couple of days (he's almost 87 years old and it takes longer to recover at that age) he decided the bone cancer had gone critical and, therefore, he was cooked, done, ready to check-out.

I, and probably many others, told him that it was true, he was dying, but then again we all were, and that the only difference is that some people had more time left that others. Apparently he saw the reason and simplicity of that kind of thinking and decided to live again. Two days later, coming back to their apartment, he fell on the stairs and broke one of his pinky fingers. That seems to have triggered the thoughts of not being any good for anything anymore except to embarrass himself and others. And this has changed his mental profile to the point of losing completely his appetite and, in a broader sense, his will to live. 

As he grew weaker, Ligia took him to the doctor's who in turn had him put in the hospital to rehydrate, re-nourish and transfuse blood into him since he had grown anemic. He ate and drank at the hospital and, after one week of progress and having verified he was physically able to eat, drink and dispose of waste, they sent him home last week-end.

Once home, apparently he has reverted back to his old ways of not wanting to eat at all. The object of my going there is not to recriminate him or call him to order or to make him eat; he's heard all that already. Instead, I am only going to see him (maybe for the last time?), to listen to him and see if I can instill on him a glimmer of hope that there is a future for all of us, regardless how short it may be...

Irrationalities...

Human relations are so multidimensional, and those dimensions are so interrelated that sometimes their complexity goes beyond a normal level of understanding capability. Some couples are generally happy day in and day out and things seem to be pretty smooth; and then, out of nowhere, some inexplicable and seemingly dormant irrationality rears its ugly head; in those moments people tend/need to go back to an almost primitive stage of the relationship in search of re-validation and re-verification that things are OK and have a chance to work out...

My friend and his wife have that seemingly smooth type of relationship; but she has some nuances that every so often send him in that search. She has an almost pathological aversion to be taught or led by him and her almost obsessive competitiveness does not allow her to reasonably recognize he may know more than she knows about certain subjects. So, when he tries to either teach her something or point somethings out which she does not understand, she gets so irrationally upset that seems to be willing to put their whole relationship on the line by taking dismissive/unilateral actions instead of reasoning about it... He, on the other hand, has known for a long time about her phobias; he has identified them himself, analyzed and labeled their root cause and become aware of the triggers; but, instead of avoiding/defusing the situation, continues to provoke incidents and get extremely upset with her reactions.

Now, these are two extremely bright human beings who, when they find themselves in such a situation, inhibit their intellect and dive - head first - into a sea of irrationalities, and remain immersed down there for a time long enough to threaten irreversible damage...

Comments...?

Financial Uncertainty...

Amazing how things change... Last year, at about this time, I was retired and siting pretty on investments that were performing less brilliantly than in previous months but still doing quite well... Since then, and under the suggestion of our financial advisor, I had to go back to the workforce and take a job in - again - Technologies. Our savings have been depleted by about 31% and I needed the 'predictability' of a corporate job.

However, something else has come about: as I took this new job, I realized that I was putting on hold what I really wanted to do, coaching, because I needed the previously mentioned revenue predictability. Now, the idea of diversifying one's income was floated in front of me this morning and since then it has started to take hold... Maybe I can still bring back to life my coaching dream and, with a little extra effort, start building a coaching practice...