I Am An Orphan

My last visit with Dad was Easter Sunday. Something told me I needed to go. I drove the 2 1/2 hours down to South Bend just to be with him. Perhaps it was selfish of me but, I was happy that none of my brothers or sisters were there. I wanted to be alone with him. I had wanted to be alone with him for a very long time. I spent the day by his bedside, holding his hand and we talked in between his frequent naps. He seemed in good spirits for a man in his condition. We did not speak of anything of importance. For me it was enough to just be there with him.

His liver was failing rapidly, the yellow palor of his skin a tell-tale sign. Though he was in great pain, I think he tried to not show it as best he could even though it was evident. I always though my daddy was courageous and strong and he remained so on this last visit.

Towards the evening he asked for morphine and got it after some time. Earlier he had asked to not have it because he wanted to keep his mind as clear as possible. By then it was evident that we needed to call the family together, which we did.

We all gathered to say goodbye to him while he could still comprehend our good wishes. Everyone took a turn telling him how he was loved and would be missed and that it was alright to go. He said time and again that he wanted to see Mom and Jesus and he was sure they were waiting for him. We also reminded him of others including his own mother whom he had not seen since he was a child, that had gone on before him and would be waiting also.

I left that evening knowing it would be the last time I saw him alive. I gave him a last kiss goodbye and I said, "I love you, daddy." He said, "I love you too." There could be no better last words to a daughter.

So, now I am an oprhan and the last thing that stood between me and my own mortality is gone.

In Loving Memory of Jerry Wayne Wise