Thank you Sushama. We are on our way to the crematorium now and I will read your poem to him at around 3pm. I'm so glad to have something from you to send him off with
Sushama, My family all loved your poem and thank you very much. I don't know where to begin to tell you about my Father's passing. I'll start by saying he was at home and he went very peacefully. His last few days, while painful for the rest of us, were also very beautiful. He had little to no pain, just minor annoyances and disruptions. He had had a few falls in the weeks previous, and was not getting better, and agreed to go into the hospital on a Wednesday, something he said he would never do. He was diagnosed with stage 4 brain cancer on Thursday and we brought him home on Friday. My brother and sister had come home when he went into hospital and had their opportunities to speak with him over the weekend. They both left home years ago and each had their own issues with him. I understand from my sister that he said some really loving and compassionate things to her, I'm sure he did to my brother too but he hasn't shared them with me. By Monday he was slowing down, but still talking very slowly and quietly. He talked with me about his mother and his family, something he never did much before. He was always more interested in and proud of his Irish heritage and family. His mother was of German descent and he always spoke rather harshly of her and said he didn't like her much. He had talked about her while in the hospital too, in a more favorable way than ever before. I told him this and he admitted that he had been a little hard on her. He told me things about his family that he'd never told anyone before. Real deathbed confessions. I now understand why he always felt a kind of guilt about the German part of himself. By Monday afternoon he was tired of talking. I read to him a favorite poem of his, Tyger Tyger by William Blake and asked if there was anything else he'd like me to read. He was silent for a while so I thought he was asleep but a few minutes later he quietly said "Moby Dick". I read Chapter 1, thinking I had read it before and would remember it. Beyond the opening line, I had completely forgotten that the whole first chapter gives a beautifully written description of NYC's various waterfronts, places I know Father was fascinated with as a boy growing up there. I finished the chapter and it seemed like he was asleep, so I went to say goodbye to the rest of the family. I came back down to him and took his hand and whispered that I was going home for the night to my family and he squeezed my hand. I came back on Monday and I don't remember him saying anything to me that day. He would still acknowledge certain things with a grunt of air or a raise of the eyebrows. I read him Chapter 2 and sat with him. By the end of the day his oxygen levels were dropping considerably but he was quiet and peaceful. I had my sons with me that day and left around 7pm with a heavy heart. They both had been in to see him throughout the day and had the chance to give him a "fist bump" as they always did when they said goodbye and said "Bye bye grandpa" in their beautiful little voices. The nurse noticed a change in him around 5am the next morning and my sister tried to contact me at 5.30. I live in an area with come and go phone reception so she didn't get through to me until 6.30. She told me the nurse had said it would be soon, but could be minutes or hours. She told me that Mom had asked him if he would wait for me and he had huffed in affirmation. My sister didn't want to tell me that in case he passed before I got there, but Mom was adamant so she did. I arrived at 7.05, went down to his room, kissed his forehead and whispered "I'm here, I love you". He took what seemed to me like 3 long, slow breaths, the last one with a tiny rattle in his throat, and passed 3 minutes after I arrived. In a way, it didn't seem real, like I was in a dream or a movie, but I knew it was and stayed with him holding his hand for an hour. I went home and did the morning rituals with the boys. It was a beautiful sunny early summer morning, everything in nature was bursting with life. We went back around 12 and my husband had a chance to see him and say goodbye. They had become very close over the last 10 years, even more so during and after Covid lockdowns. My husband was young when I met him and sometimes at odds with my fathers attitudes and beliefs but as he matured they became more and more of a like mind. I can't help but wonder whether my father had an influence on him, even though he is also a man of strong will and resolve. We brought the boys in to see him and did our best to explain to them what had happened in a positive light. When our eldest, Seán, asked if grandpa will come back and we said no, his sadness showed on his face and he wiped away a few tears. He has said and done a few things over the course of the last few weeks that have surprised and amazed me. I will recount some of those stories to you in another note.
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Wed 6:23 PM
You feel
I went through your text with my breath suspended. Evening here. Your account brought all the moments alive over time and distance to me as if I was there. I am curious about your son Sean's reactions and waiting for you to recount them.
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Wed 7:05 PM
From Ana
The night before I took the boys to see him before he passed, Seán asked in bed before he went to sleep whether Grandpa would be there in the morning. I had said nothing to him at this stage, just that Grandpa was tired and had a new bed so wasn't in his usual recliner chair. The next morning before we went over he did a crayon drawing of a type he'd never done before. After finishing it, he wanted to explain it all to me. I wrote it down. Its of a tree he said that grows and grows and grows. He showed me the roots and talked about the branches and beautiful leaves. It had roses too. He said , and then, someone put a treasure at the top. And the treasure grew bigger and bigger and then it grew smaller. But the tree will keep growing and growing. The day before when I was with Father and my brother, Eoghan, Father kept repeating the last line of a 13th century Irish genealogical poem he had me translate about 15 years ago. It translated as "O'Donoghue is good at the top". My brother didn't understand at first, he wasn't familiar with the poem so I was able to explain to him what Father meant. I'll have to try to find that poem again to remember the rest of the verse, it talked about clan trees and branches and so on. Seán wasn't in the room to hear this but the next morning he came out with a drawing far advanced in subject matter and technique from anything he had previously done. t familiar with the poem so I was able to explain to him what Father meant. I'll have to try to find that poem again to remember the rest of the verse, it talked about clan trees and branches and so on. Seán wasn't in the room to hear this but the next morning he came out with a drawing far advanced in subject matter and technique from anything he had previously done. t familiar with the poem so I was able to explain to him what Father meant. I'll have to try to find that poem again to remember the rest of the verse, it talked about clan trees and branches and so on. Seán wasn't in the room to hear this but the next morning he came out with a drawing far advanced in subject matter and technique from anything he had previously done.
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From Ana
The day after he passed we were in the house and lost track of Donal, my youngest. Seán and I found him in Grandpas room, just looking around. I said to Seán, I wonder what he is doing and Seán said he was talking to Grandpa. I said I wonder what Grandpa said to him and Seán replied, he's telling Donal he loves him. And that he loves all of us
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Wed 7:25 PM
From Ana
Seán did his tree drawing the day before Father passed and while he wasn't talking anymore he was sat up in his bed with his eyes open looking at the drawing as I read Seáns explanation of it. I didn't detect any responses from him though I guess I was reading it and trying not to cry so not looking at him. His mind was clearly there until the very end so I hope to believe that he heard it. It was so special to have had him here and spend so much time with him during such formative years for the boys. He and both of the boys, but Seán in particular had a beautiful loving relationship.
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Wed 7:52 PM
You feel
This loving relationship will continue. There is a unique connection between grandchildren and grandfathers or grandmothers and it works beneficially over a long period as long as decreed by God.
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Wed 8:20 PM
From Ana
It has suddenly occurred to me that Father had an extremely close and long lasting relationship with his paternal grandmother. She was the one who told him all of the stories about his Irish ancestors that fascinated him as a child and ultimately led to him moving back here.
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From Ana
Thank you that is a real comfort. I have other stories to tell you but its nearing dinner time here and Dónal has just woken from his nap so will follow on with more later
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