After months of preparation, my parents moved in with us just four days ago so I could help care for my dad. Dad has gotten more frail since last year and caring for him has gotten harder. Mom, as his primary caregiver, was emotionally and physically overburdened. With my husband’s and siblings’ permission, we decided moving in my parents with us would be the wisest thing to do. And because I am at home almost every day, I would be in the best position to care for and serve them.
Since their arrival Sunday afternoon, Dad has been playful and happy, even gamely posing for a selfie with me. Although tired from the move and its disruptions to his routine, Dad was in good spirits. His appetite was markedly improved and he enjoyed being spoonfed by Alex when he got tired of holding his spoon (ahh, the perks of being a Lolo). On Monday night, we sat down for a family dinner and Dad and his namesake, Alphonse, shared watermelon slices for dessert. He watched Godfather, his all-time favorite movie, with my sister Jasmine before bedtime. When we kissed him good night Monday evening, we did not know that what awaited us in the morning was darkness again. This morning, Daddy is asleep still, two days post-op in the Neuro ICU, after suffering a massive bleed in his brain.
Please wake up, Daddy. Alex and Alphonse are waiting for you. We are all waiting for you. We want more family dinners with you and Mom. We want you home with us. We need you. We love you.
Wake up, Daddy. Please.