literature

My Father, God's Angel

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Today the doctor told my family that my father only had three months to live. "The cancer is spreading faster then we thought." The doctor said grimly. "I'm sorry." he said as he walked out of the room. I looked at my father sitting there in his wheel chair. He had been doing great until about a week ago when he started to get tired extremely fast. When we first found out he had cancer we where shocked. He had never been a smoker and cancer did not run in our family.

We found out he had cancer when we had to rush him into the emergency room at our local hospital a month before. He was having chest pains that he was normally having. But this time it was the worse it had ever been. My mother and I had waited outside in the ER waiting room when they took him back to take xrays of his chest. Everything looked fine the doctor had stated to my family. But they wanted to run more tests. My father was getting sicker as the days went by. We had no idea why. Soon the doctor came back into his room and told us they had found cancer in his brain. I was shocked as well as my mother. We had not expected cancer was the source of his problems.

The doctor said he was having chest pains because of stress and not the cancer. I recall the doctor telling us he had a 50/50 chance of surviving the cancer. But soon it went down to a 30% chance. But now it was a 10% chance. We had prayed so hard that he would get better but it looked like God wanted another angel by his side.

After the doctor told us he had only three months to live he suggested to my mother that we should think about what our options are for when it does come time for him to go. I looked at my mother. She looked strong, but I could tell she was crying inside. We then wheeled my father out to the car and lifted him into the front seat. I put the wheel chair in the trunk and climbed on in for the ride home.

After a week my father had declined more and was speaking less and eating less. I did not know what to do. It was hard for me to even be around him. It was like someone I did not know had taken his place. I watched as his health declined and he sank further into a state of depression. My mother had started to stay out all night and only come home to sleep. She worked during the day and went to drink at night. I was the one who had the nerve to stay with my father. None of my other family would help and they would not even call to see if everything was ok.I knew this was taking its toll on everyone, but the least they could do is offer me a shoulder to cry on at night.

A month had passed and my father started to have trouble breathing and had to go on oxygen. I now was seeing the result of the cancer eating away at his brain. And it seemed like the cancer was going to spread even faster then the doctor thought.

The next day the doctor came to our house to examine my father. He pulled me out of the room and told me what I already know. The date of his departure was closer then we thought. "I am so sorry." The doctor replied. "I believe his time is coming within this next month." I nodded and showed the doctor out of the house. No one was home except me and dad. I walked to his room and saw him staring out the window. Tears started to flow down my cheeks. I turned my head away as I ran to my room and jumped on my bed. I started crying and found myself waking up a hour later. I ran to my fathers room to check on him and make sure he was breathing. He was breathing. I sighed a big sigh of relief. I was not ready for him to go.

On Wednesday my father started to want me to stay by his side. He refused to eat or take his medicine. He grabbed my hand and held it tight. I started crying as I watched his breath getting shallower. I prayed he would make it through the night. I sat in a chair beside his bed all night long. I must have fallen asleep for I woke up around noon the next day. I found my father lying on his side facing away from me. I leaned over to kiss him and tell him I love him. But as I kissed his head I found it ice cold. I grabbed his hand and held it in mine. It was cold like his forehead and there was no pause. My father had passed away that night. I called my mother to tell her, but she did not answer.

I then called the doctor and he came out to pronounce my father dead. After two hours my mother had came home. I was sitting in the living room in my father's chair crying. My mother looked at me and drooped everything and came to comfort me. I tried to push her away, but could not. I wanted to shout "Why where you not here when I needed you?". But I knew the answer. She was struggling with what was going on in her own way.

We buried my father three days later. A lot of people showed up. As we walked by his casket for the last time I thought he looked peaceful. I closed my eyes as I held his hand one last time. God really must have needed a angel by his side I had thought that day.

Its now been three years and I am now married with a little girl. My father had died two months before he was suppose to die, but even as time goes by it still hurts to think about what happened with my father. It hurts even more knowing that my little girl will never know her grandfather. But I know she will be watched by one of God's dearest angels.
A story I wrote back in 2007. I still love it and never submitted it to deviantART.

PS. This is not a true story. It was inspired by someone I cared for once. It is dedicated to the guy I took care of. He had only 6 months to live when I wrote this back in 2007. So I'm sure he has passed by now. It would have been nice if he could have recovered.
© 2010 - 2024 FerretJAcK
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