When is it time to say, "Enough is enough!" Why is it so hard to let go? How can you possibly know what someone would want when he can't sit up and tell you himself? In my heart of hearts, I do not think my dad would want to live this way. He is now getting what the Drs calls recurrent aspiration pneumonia and has been in and out of the hospital due to respiratory distress multiple times this week. The doctors think his condition is due in part to the G-tube he has had for feeding for the past 3 years, and in part due to his weakened state. Based on all of this, the Palliative Care team from the hospital has suggested to us the option to withdraw some of the treatment and just do comfort care. So what to do? What would he want?
I want to remember my dad as the adventurous, loving, funny, brilliant, stubborn man that he was. He loved being a father to all four of us, he loved being a doctor to his patients. He loved reading and would always carry multiple reading materials along with him: newspapers, medical journals (a Kindle would have been perfect for him!) He loved science and teaching his children about science and how things work. He loved trains and was known for spending a day just riding subway trains around New York City. He loved being Jewish and was an active member of his temple. He was committed to Social Justice and marched with MLK during the height of the Civil Rights Movement.
I have been telling my children about my dad for years, as if he is already gone. On a recent trip to visit him, Josh said to me, "I wish I had known Grandpa when he was healthy." I wish this so so much. He would have had so much to share with and teach my 3 - could have answered so many of their tough science questions. He would have gotten so much joy from them, and them from him. I am so sad that they will never know this.
So when I think about letting go, I think I have been letting go slowly, over the years, as we have lost more and more of my dad.
But am I ready to let go? Will I ever be? The answer comes easily: no.
