Post by Lisa Arnold on Apr 21, 2010 0:42:36 GMT -5
The Call
This is a diary/journal entry I made a few hours before and a few minutes after I learned my father had died early that following morning.
THE CALL – March 12, 2010
every night,
every morning
every minute, I find
myself waiting,
anticipating and
fearing that call.
The call
no one
wants
to answer.
The call
no one
wants to
come.
The call
that shatters
your soul
and renders
you helpless.
The one
that comes
like a thief
at midnight.
The one
that alters
your life
forever.
On March 13, 2010,
an early Saturday
morning
at 12:45 AM,
that dreadful call
finally came.
I was numb,
angry
yet
deeply
relieved.
I loved my father
but watching
him suffer
day after day
tore through
my heart
and soul.
This day was
inevitable.
Still I feel
like an
orphan.
Two hours
before this
awful call, I was
abruptly
awakened
from my nap on
my living
room couch.
I was sweating
and panting
and was in
a near panic.
I looked
at the clock
and it was
10:51 PM.
At this moment,
I knew my
father was dying,
but I hoped
I was wrong.
My mother
answered
the phone.
It was the
nursing home.
I heard my
mother speaking
softly.
She was
saying
thank you
and asking
how my father
died.
Moments later,
my mother
told me the nurse
said, “I am so sorry
to inform you
that your husband
has died. He opened
his eyes and then
went to sleep.
It was a peaceful
death.”
All of my
memories
of my father
flashed
through
my mind.
I recalled
his laughter,
his scent and
the times
when I was child
and he took me
to the beach.
But most of all,
I remembered
his kind eyes
and affectionate
smile.
I remembered
how much
he loved me,
my sister
and my mother.
He always called
us “his girls.”
His love for us
was real.
The last time
I saw him alive,
he whispered
how much he
loved us.
As I sat alone
in my living room,
I sensed my father's
loving embrace
comforting me
as I said
a quiet prayer.
I am so grateful
the waiting is over.
And I am relieved
I no longer have
to jump every time
the phone rings.
But it is then
that I think
of my sweet
dear mother
and painfully
reminded
that one day
I will get
another such
phone call.
©2010 Lisa Arnold
[/center][/color]
This is a diary/journal entry I made a few hours before and a few minutes after I learned my father had died early that following morning.
THE CALL – March 12, 2010
every night,
every morning
every minute, I find
myself waiting,
anticipating and
fearing that call.
The call
no one
wants
to answer.
The call
no one
wants to
come.
The call
that shatters
your soul
and renders
you helpless.
The one
that comes
like a thief
at midnight.
The one
that alters
your life
forever.
On March 13, 2010,
an early Saturday
morning
at 12:45 AM,
that dreadful call
finally came.
I was numb,
angry
yet
deeply
relieved.
I loved my father
but watching
him suffer
day after day
tore through
my heart
and soul.
This day was
inevitable.
Still I feel
like an
orphan.
Two hours
before this
awful call, I was
abruptly
awakened
from my nap on
my living
room couch.
I was sweating
and panting
and was in
a near panic.
I looked
at the clock
and it was
10:51 PM.
At this moment,
I knew my
father was dying,
but I hoped
I was wrong.
My mother
answered
the phone.
It was the
nursing home.
I heard my
mother speaking
softly.
She was
saying
thank you
and asking
how my father
died.
Moments later,
my mother
told me the nurse
said, “I am so sorry
to inform you
that your husband
has died. He opened
his eyes and then
went to sleep.
It was a peaceful
death.”
All of my
memories
of my father
flashed
through
my mind.
I recalled
his laughter,
his scent and
the times
when I was child
and he took me
to the beach.
But most of all,
I remembered
his kind eyes
and affectionate
smile.
I remembered
how much
he loved me,
my sister
and my mother.
He always called
us “his girls.”
His love for us
was real.
The last time
I saw him alive,
he whispered
how much he
loved us.
As I sat alone
in my living room,
I sensed my father's
loving embrace
comforting me
as I said
a quiet prayer.
I am so grateful
the waiting is over.
And I am relieved
I no longer have
to jump every time
the phone rings.
But it is then
that I think
of my sweet
dear mother
and painfully
reminded
that one day
I will get
another such
phone call.
©2010 Lisa Arnold
and 
all
time for me 
echoes, hope you all are doing well 
