Dad's Passing

Tuesday, 17 April 2007

Just short of his 60th birthday (He would have turned 60 on May 23rd), and two months to the day after I held his hand as he walked with me down the aisle, Dad passed this evening at about 10:45 pm.

Although we knew he was dying when he was diagnosed with the terminal illness ALS (also known as Lou Gherig's Disease), two and a half years ago in October 2004, his death was sudden and a shock to us all. We knew he did not want any invasive devices, no feeding tube, no trach, no ventilator, to help prolong his life, even as his mind was fully functioning throughout this entire disease. You can accept it and live life to its fullest and enjoy each moment you have with your loved one, but you're still never fully prepared for the day, or even the moment, that loved one passes.

Around 10:06 pm, Bernice called my cell phone and home phone to say that Dad was getting ready for bed. She had given him his usual pills, then he asked to be massaged. He asked for the bell under his finger(which she only figured out because he spelled it out using his eyes on the board I just made a few days ago to help with communication since losing his voice). She massaged his shoulders and turned him on his side to rotate him. When she turned him back, his eyes kind of rolled back and he was taking really deep breaths. She got scared and called Hospice.

The on-call nurse said to give him his anti-anxiety pill and some morphine we had in the fridge. Chris and I were already ready to come down, and Bernice called again at 10:17 pm, because based on his symptoms, the nurse said he was probably passing. She advised Bernice to give him a little bit more morphine. I told my stepsister Lindsey we were on our way.

When we got there, Bernice was by his side, crying, holding his hand. I hugged him and kissed him and started bawling. His hands and his feet were still warm and I told him to be strong and hang in there. His mouth was a little open, and the bi-pap machine and oxygen were still flowing.

Over the next twenty minutes, Uncle Frank and Aunty Sharon came, Uncle Gary and Aunty Stevi, Jay, Shelley, Whitney, Garry Loo, and later Miya and Junji. Everyone talked to Dad and held his hand and gave him hugs and kisses. Some were more emotional than others. Aunty Sharon was convinced that he was just sleeping. Chris helped call people and keep the Hospice nurse informed. Eventually, it didn't really sound like Dad was taking any breaths in. Jay checked his pulse and said there was none. He took the mask off at one point, but I got upset and asked him to put it back on. Dad's hands and feet started turning white and pale, getting cold. He simply stopped breathing, his body too weak to take in the forceful air from the bi-pap machine anymore....But he looked at peace. Jay turned the machines off around 10:45 -10:50 pm.

There were many calls to my mom and close friends, waiting for the Hospice nurse, and then giving her information, trying to figure out where to have Dad's service (since we hadn't figured out those details with Dad), filling out paperwork, and then she threw any narcotic medicine of his away. We thought about Diamond Head Mortuary because that's where his parents are, but we also remembered he was first interested in Nuuanu Mortuary because it had a large gathering area. Dad was very concerned about the food and having a big celebration with friends and family. So, we settled on Nuuanu, since he is going to be cremated, and we know we will need a large gathering place because he was so loved by many. His friend Garry Loo contacted his friend, who was a coworker of Dad's as well, about helping Dad out since he works at Nuuanu. Not only would Dad like that because he is frugal, but he would also appreciate it because it is a friend.

Many people left at 12:30 am, leaving the family there with Dad as we waited for the mortuary. We talked about how he had wanted a shower that afternoon and how he had just peed prior to going to bed. He had drank an Ensure earlier, even though he only ate a couple bites of dinner. The Hospice nurse said that it was unusual that he ate anything. Perhaps he was preparing himself. I recalled how recently he had me take a sample of his hair "for DNA purposes". He was always so logical and practical sometimes about things like that.

1:30 am The guys from Nuuanu Mortuary came to pick Dad up. We each took a minute or so to say goodbye. I am glad that I came by earlier this evening to visit him. I feel bad that my brother didn't visit him earlier, but I know that we all did the best that we could in caring and loving him the way that we did. This time, Jay DID help carry Dad onto the stretcher, and into a white van. We'll meet with the mortuary tomorrow.

So, perhaps attaching the car battery to his machines wasn't the plan after all. Perhaps it wasn't a plan about how to strategically move him up our stairs and transport him safely to Bernice's house. Perhaps this is why Dad was so hard-headed and didn't want to tell us "the plan" on Sunday night before he made the big move. At least some people have been telling me this....that perhaps he wanted to come up to his house, where he spent most of his life singlehandedly raising me and Jay, to spend time with us, to be near his family. Perhaps this is why, over the past year, he had me slowly bring things of his from Bernice's house back up to our house, making sure his financial things were in order. Perhaps this is why he was so adamant to rush the move back to Bernice's house on Monday, even in his debilitated condition. Perhaps this is why he mentioned to the care agency that "it is bad luck for Chinese to die in the house." Perhaps he loved us so much that he didn't want to burden us anymore. Perhaps he loved us so much that he wanted to spend time with us, and then go back to spend time with Bernice and die. Although I already miss him so, and as much as I wish that he could have held on to see his first grandchild in a few months, at least I know that he is not suffering with this dreaded disease anymore. He was a very strong, loving, humble man. And, in some way, perhaps THIS was Dad's "plan" all along.