Stretched: Hospice Journey Part 4

WRAL contributor Sloane Heffernan is sharing her father's journey in hospice care. Read part 1, part 2 and part 3 of her story.

Do you remember the action figure Stretch Armstrong? He was a popular toy in the 1970s and 1980s with rubbery arms and legs that you could pull and stretch into crazy abnormal shapes.

Earlier this year, I felt a lot like that gel-filled action figure. I was being pulled in two different directions, by two generations, facing once in a lifetime events.

My dad was in Hospice care in Massachusetts and my oldest was about to graduate from high school in North Carolina. Two major milestones involving two of the most important people in my life.

What made it even more challenging is that I wasn’t actually being pulled by anyone. My father and my son are very similar. They have incredibly kind hearts and gentle spirits. Neither of them ever made me feel pressure. The pull was coming from within.

I remember being in a similar position before my mother died seven years ago. My kids were really young at the time and my mom was hospitalized in Massachusetts. I remember that as I vacillated between staying and going, my cousin gave me some good advice. She said, “You may regret ‘not’ going, but you’ll never regret going.” She was right.

Ultimately, I chose to be with my dad during his end-of-life care, while my son celebrated the end of his high school career. I rationalized that I would have a lot more time to make memories with my son, and that the time with my father was short and precious.

I felt stretched to the limit at times, especially the night that I was holding my dad’s hand while my daughter called crying after getting a stomach bug. It’s amazing what we can handle when we are stretched, especially as parents. I guess that’s why it was so important to be by my father’s side. I know how much he sacrificed for me as a parent, and I wanted to show my appreciation.

During the five weeks in Massachusetts, I was able to fly home for my son’s graduation. Luckily, I made it back to my dad’s bedside before he took his last breath. It was a sacred moment that I will forever cherish.

After my dad’s passing, my body seemed to shrink. The arms that felt so stretched, now longed for a super-natural ability to reach out and hold my dad and my son who left for college shortly after my dad died.

If only I truly had Stretch Armstrong’s super strength, I would reach out and wrap my arms around them both.