If They Only Knew
Posted: Saturday, June 09, 2007
by Judi Lake
Judi Lake Advertising
As the paramedics gently put him on the stretcher, our eyes locked. Silently, my father’s eyes pleaded with mine not to make him go. Silently, my eyes told him that he must go. As they lifted my father into the ambulance, I grabbed his hand tightly and kissed it. Silently I prayed that it doesn’t end this way… not now, Lord, not now.
It had been a very busy day. Laura had her T and A surgery in the early morning and was now sleeping quietly in my bed. I was softly caressing my brave little girl’s head when I suddenly heard a loud crash from within the kitchen. Careful not to disturb my daughter, I quietly went into the kitchen to find my father lying on the floor with glass shattered all around him.
“Dad, dad, do you know who I am?"
“Glo, calm down, what’s the problem? And when’s dinner going to be ready, I’m starving."
“Dad, this is Judi, dad, not mom. Dad, do you understand?"
“Glo, what do you say we go for a ride after dinner. You know how you like that Italian Ice place. Let’s go there."
“Dad, dad…"
And so it went. He wasn’t talking to me; he was talking to my deceased mom.
I quickly called 911 and while I stayed home with our recovering daughter, my husband, Gary, left to follow the ambulance. As the ambulance drove away, I wondered if my father was looking at my mother or me. I felt guilty that I couldn’t be at his side, but, since I am unable to bi-locate, I had no choice but to stay at home with my daughter.
As I was waiting to hear from the hospital, I pondered on the ironies of life. As life goes, our roles have sadly reversed with me now the ‘parent’ of my father. I care for him, tend to him and, yes, mother him. He relies on me now as I had often relied on him throughout my life. It is me who now makes the important decisions and it is me who now protects my father.
But it was not always this way. In his day, my father could do anything and was deeply devoted to his family. He was a good provider, responsible and a true family man. Above all, my father was a compassionate man who understood unconditional love and forgiveness.
Although he never credits himself, my father taught me much about humility, human kindness, compassion and how to dream. When I look into my dad’s eyes, I can still see his spirit; beneath his exterior is the father I have always known.
Ordinarily, an even-tempered man, there was a side of my father we seldom saw. He was a Nassau County Police Officer and, although he successfully managed to separate his professional life from his home life well, there was one occasion that I had witnessed my dad interrogating a criminal. The easy-going, loving man I knew instantly transformed into the ‘cop’; he knew his job and he knew how to communicate with criminals. I was proud to be the daughter of a police officer even at the time when they were commonly referred to as ‘pigs’. Today, thirty years after he retired, it pains me to see young policeman speak so condescendingly to my dad; he could teach them much if only they looked past his age.
He has contributed and accomplished much in his lifetime, but to society he is simply ‘an old man’. To the system, he is no longer a commodity, therefore is worth very little. To me, his daughter, I would lay my life down for him
When strangers meet him, they speak ‘at’ him as though he were a child. If they only knew....
Why doesn’t society honor the elderly? Why is the elderly tossed aside as a ‘burden on society’? Why do we choose to hide the elderly away instead of letting them grow old gracefully, lovingly and with dignity? Why does society not realize that the elderly are the backbone of our nation?
The phone rings as I rummage through my mother’s Hope Chest. Within this ‘Chest of Memories’ I find my father’s WWII Sailor Uniform. He was only seventeen when he enlisted and…
“Mrs. Lake?"
“Yes, who is this?"
“This is the head nurse at Loris Hospital."
“My dad? Is he…"
“Your husband can bring him home. He had a urinary infection, which caused the hallucinations. This is very common with the elderly. He’ll be all right."
“Thank you! Thank you so much!"
As I tuck my father into bed, I am honored to serve him, care for him and love him. He was always my constant in life and sacrificed much for my brothers and me. I hold his cold, wrinkled hand in mine as he sleeps and am reminded that one day, God Willing, my daughter will be holding my aged hands, stroking my grey hair and remembering just as I do with my father.
My dad is still my hero. While others may see him as an old, silly man, I know who my dad was and I know who he is today. He is my father whose now withering body was once strong and vibrant and full of dreams. Hearing the steady breathing of his sleep, I am reminded of a poem by Joanna Fuchs:
Everything Dad
A little girl needs her daddy
To love her with manly charm,
To soothe her when she’s hurt,
And keep her safe from harm.
A girl needs her dad
To show her a man who’s good,
To help her make right choices,
As only a father could.
A woman needs her father
Just to be aware,
He’ll always be there for her
To sustain her and to care.
You’ve been all these things, Dad.
I hope that you can see
How much I treasure you;
You mean everything to me.
To all the dads, new and old, I salute you and may every day of your life be ‘A Happy Father’s Day!’
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More commentsJudy, this was soooo touching!! I can imagine the scare that you went through and the anxiety must have been overwhelming. Bless you and your Dad and may he watch over you both.Thanks, Jan - yes it was frightening and a bit overwelming but you do the best you can and you pray a lot. Some days are easier than others but this, to me, is what family is for. Thanks for your comments!
Judi, I am thankful the Lord has watched over you and your family. What a fright you had but your faith remains strong. Cling to Him who is able to give you peace of mind each day. I am so thankful your father's recovering and it was only a UTI. I hope Laura's recovering well, too.Avis, I can't imagine anyone going on without God, without His peace and guidance, trust me, I'd be a complete basket case... Thanks for your comments, they always mean a lot!
hi Judi, thanks for a poignant story. all of which i can relate to. i like your style of writing. it's very interesting, easy to read, and about topics i'm sure most of us can identify with. and thank you for commenting on my frustration can be Hell. yes, the strength i'm absorbing could kill a bear with my own hands!:) or anything i think that resembles a bear!!:) thanks for being there for me, it means a lot to me. best regards, sue thomThanks so much, Sue for your kind comments! As far as what you are going through, I wish I could do for you, but prayers are going out for you and please keep the faith that 'this too shall pass' and in time all this hardship will be a memory. I think your writing is not only good for us, but also good therapy for yourself so keep it coming, Sue!
Judi, You are a lucky women to have a father like that. In our culture it is a shame that we do not respect the elderly. They are filled with wisdom, memories and provide us with a legacy to follow. Thank you for this inspirational piece!Yes, James, it really is a shame that society has hardly any regard for the elderly. I love hearing stories 'about the old days'. I guess my 'sore spot' are children and the old folks, they are being passed over. Thanks so much for your comment!
Judi, You are what most dads hope their daughters will become. Nice tribute to your father and an accurate indictment of our society's treatment of the aging.Thanks, Steve but trust me, I am sure I am the reason for some of my father's grey hair... smile. To me, this is what family is about.
There is not much that brings me to tears, but this article did. A true story of love and devotion. May we all be as fortunate as your father and may he have a Happy and Healthy Father's Day.I am happy you were touched by my story, but its not uncommon (I hope). Love, to me, encompasses much, not just 'feel good' stuff. Thank you for your comments!
Judy, what a touching article. You are a loyal and loving daughter. I'm thankful your dad is okay. Enjoy the time you have left with him, you'll treasure it later when he is gone.
Sorry, I spelled your name wrong in my comment above. I apologize profusely, Judi!!!!!Oh, James, no worries! Actually, I believe I was not named 'Judith/Judy' because my mother was convinced that I would inherit her lisp, which I did... smile. Thank you so much for you kind comments, this is what family is all about to me. Happy Father's Day!
Judi: I loved your story; it brought tears. It's nice when they have a happy ending. I am your fan. I am sending a poem for your father. He might enjoy this little bit of poetry that I authored. Marty RicKard, poet, author. He Still Can Smile By Marty RicKard He was a good man once Now his joints pop like Redenbacher corn as he rises though his brittleness he disguises with exaggerated groans and moans and a smile Yes he still can smile He once was panther quick could run forever his breath crisp and silent and efficient Now he stumbles Pain stabs his ankles and his lungs rattle like radio static in the night And his wife nudges him to stop the wheezing whisper in his chest and recalls the time when he only snored I recall when he was a good man I still see him once in a while in the decaying fog of memory awaiting the day when he can’t smile He was a good man once He once was meThank you so much for your beautiful response, Marty - I guess we are even, because your poem brought tears to my eyes. Actually, my dad was rushed to hospital today and I am going to read him the poem you wrote; he will be touched by it. All the very best to you, Marty and thank you again!
Hi Judy, Just stumbled on to this older article of yours--great article! I'm going through something similar with my father. He's 86 years old and he was a very strong, accomplished successful man--in his younger days--but you know for me he always will be that strong accomplished man. Age doesn’t change that. Sadly, many look down on older people--I for one have always respected our older citizens. After all, who really knows what they may have gone through and triumphed over--who really knows what they were in their younger days? War hero, strong policeman, great wife, husband etc. etc. It's good to know there are people like you out there. Keep on keepin on! Steve Kovacs
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