Come Home: Hospice Journey Part 5

WRAL contributor Sloane Heffernan is sharing her father's journey in hospice care.

“You need to come home.” My very best friend from childhood was on the other end of my phone crying when she spoke those words. She had been visiting my dad in Hospice care at his home in Massachusetts. I had just left New England days earlier to attend my son’s college orientation in North Carolina. My father had been in good spirits (all things considered) when I left.

I struggled to wrap my head around my friend’s tearful plea. For years, my mom jokingly called my father Lazarus based on his ability to “come back from the dead." He would always rebound, despite his numerous close-calls and ICU hospital visits. I convinced myself this time would be the same, as I jumped on the earliest flight that I could catch.

I would soon learn why my friend was crying. By the time I arrived my father could no longer speak. He could only respond by squeezing my hand. I will forever be grateful to my dear friend. My father knew I was there.

The next four days still seem surreal. The morphine quickly made his body lifeless, yet the steady movement in his chest was a reminder that we was still very much alive. I held his hand, played his favorite songs and told him stories. At night, my brothers and I would turn on the Sox game, because that was his favorite.

Four days later, as the sun went down on a perfect New England day (the kind that my dad adored), my sweet father took his final breath as the Red Sox mounted a comeback in the background.

It was peaceful and heartbreaking. I opened the windows and door, because I’ve always heard that doing so allows the soul to make an easier exit. Then, I shamelessly crawled into the hospital bed and held my father, as I let him go.

It turns out letting go isn’t easy. The end came, but the pain remains.

Yet I am grateful. Grateful that I got to be with my father in his final days, hours and minutes. As hard as it was, there was a sense of beauty in that sacred moment. A true sense of coming home.

Note: Thank you to the readers who have shared their love, support and their own stories of grief during this series. I feel blessed to have had this platform to share my heart. It has been very therapeutic and has brought healing. I think my dad would have found it really cool too. Thank you so much, Sloane