I awoke this morning at 5am. Knowing me, that’s not too unusual since I tend to wake up early by my own inner alarm clock. But the thought in my head was what I found intriguing. You see, I woke up with a prompting to contact my deceased Dad’s pulmonologist. Quite frankly, it’s been a long time since I’d even thought of him ~ probably since my Dad passed away 2 years ago, June 21st ~ the first day of summer ~ Dad’s favorite day after Christmas.
But I woke up thinking that I needed to hug this doctor who was friendly with our family and instantly became an even closer friend after 3 harrowing weeks of my Dad being in ICU. I know it sounds odd because it sounds odd to me. But I want to write him a letter, telling him that I want to stop in to his office to hug him. Just to let him know how much we still think of him. He tried every heroic measure possible to save my Dad and we appreciated how much he cared, how hard he tried and how he took 3 women under his wing while he tried to save the husband and Dad that they loved.
As I sit here with tears falling down my cheeks, trying to type as fast as my mind is whirring, I am bereft in understanding why I should be crying today after all this time. It’s not an anniversary of his death nor any special day at all. But as I sit here in my family room, the house all quiet, everyone sleeping peacefully and even the cat curled up by my side, I feel such an intense gratitude for this man. Perhaps it’s the overwhelming realization of the amazing tenderness he showed to us, all the while trying to heal his patient who truly would never heal. It was the simple human kindness which was given in such a caring way that I remember. When I think back to those scary times, in my mind’s eye, I see Dr. R acting like a shepard and we, acting like sheep, holding onto his every word, praying for a miracle and hoping for a gift.
Maybe my prompting is for Dr. R and not for me. Perhaps it is I who can give him some comfort now, let him know that we know he did his best and how much we appreciated him. Surely it is not easy for a physician to lose a patient, especially a caring doctor like Dr. R. I’ve had many doctors in my life and there are a few with whom I have such a relationship. How can you not have a caring relationship when your doctor heals you? There’s a special bond between doctors and patients, especially oncologists. At least, that’s my experience, but that’s a story for another day.
Who know, maybe my Dad is reaching out from the Heavens this morning to me. All I can tell you is that hot tears keep streaming down my face this morning and try as I might, they keep coming as I type. So I let them flow with abandon. There’s nobody to hear my occasional sniffle. Only the cat to meow when I jostle her by getting another tissue. By the time my family awakens, I will be ship-shape, but with this special moment tucked away in my heart.
Thanks for sharing this moment with me. I don’t want to lose the feeling so I am publishing this post. It’s that peaceful serenity that envelops my heart now. The reminder that we may pass away, but our loving spirit remains.