Sitting Deathwatch

photo from pexels.com, by  lalesh aldarwish

My father passed from this life on Friday, December 13, 2024. In the stillness of the night, I was with him. One of the family, at least, was always present from the time we knew that he was dying, until he was gone.

This is the sixth time I’ve sat with a loved one who was dying. Sitting Deathwatch is an old term, and it makes some people very uncomfortable. Death should, honestly. It is the greatest transition we make in this life. Greater than being born, for we have existed in the womb, been present, hoped for, dreamed of, for months.

There is a terrible beauty to sitting with the dying. I have lost other loved ones quickly, before I could know it was coming, and that is its own shock and grief and pain. Having hours, days, even weeks to sit with someone, knowing what is coming, helps. But no matter, one is never ready. Never prepared for the emptiness. Never prepared to go on into a life without that person.

My father had 90 years of life. He had seen a lot, and knew a lot. He was, and I am, persons of faith. I know I will be with him again, and with those others who have gone before. There is comfort in that, but there is still loss, and grief.

Before Dad passed, I sat with him for hours. At times, he was able to talk, able to know me, and at other times he was just there. It did not matter. I had time to tell him—whether he heard or not—all the things I’d never said, and to repeat those that I had. I had time to apologize for anything I felt the need to, and to reassure him of my love. I had time to let go—but still can’t.

As time goes forward, I will need to spill out my thoughts and feelings here. If only for myself, I must do it. Dad was declining slowly for years—although 7 months before his death he was still hand-splitting wood, a vigorous, if unsteady, man. He should have stopped driving long before he did, but he never gave up, and never gave in. He fought for independence to the very end, telling friends a few days before he passed that “everything will be done by [my] authority.” (I will not use his name here, those who know, know. For the rest, it is unnecessary.)

I spent a great deal of time helping my parents. My mother will need me, going forward. There will still be necessary demands on my time, but they will be lessened now.

When I began this page, I meant it more for business, for information about writing (including my own) and books I had read. I have posted very little during the time my parents needed me. There will be time to begin anew.

I also read almost nothing in print during this time. I have a serious audiobook addiction, but that suffered as well, although I could read while driving back and forth; to fall asleep at night; and while doing mindless tasks. I couldn’t concentrate, and often found myself listening to the same passages over and over. I hope to get back to reading, and my job, and other things which had to necessarily fall by the wayside.

I hope to become coherent again, both in my thoughts, and in my ability to write. It’s been a very long haul, and I imagine that this will reverberate in me for a very long time.

I do not regret a single moment I spent caring for my father, my mother, or with my siblings and extended family. Should you ever have an opportunity to sit with the dying, just know, it has a terrible beauty all its own, that cannot be expressed in words.

Hold your dear ones close.