Thursday, January 6, 2011

Sounds in the Wee Moring Hours

Sounds in the Wee Morning Hours

     Sounds never meant to be heard by the living awoke me from my restless sleep. I quickly jumped to my feet and looked over at my father’s Hospice bed. He was asleep. I frantically grabbed my life line my cell phone. I placed a call to my sister. A fast glance at the clock told me it was 3:33 a.m. She did not answer my call. I assured myself that she was snuggled down with her dog and her husband to keep her out of harms way.  I was shaking in fear. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine and I trembled. I then felt a coldness pass through my being. I felt as though I could not catch my breathe or move. My body just would not let me. For a moment I thought I was still dreaming. Then it came to me my little friend Jason. I had promised him that I would watch over his Dad. I quickly left the room and walked two doors down to Jason’s dad’s room. The door was ajar and a small light had been left on. Like a shadow under a door I slowly slipped into the room. I stood above  this vessel of what use to be a vibrant man and listened. The only noise I heard was the in and out flow of his drug induced sleep. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief that he was still alive. Not on my watch I thought to myself. I have promises to keep and I never break a promise to a child.
    As I slowly walked back to my father’s room I proceeded to do a bed check of all the other guests next to my fathers room. Many years of being a mother had taught me the importance of the peace of mind brought on by nightly bed checks.
    I returned to my father’s room and once again tried to get comfortable on the couch that was my bed. There was an extra bed besides my fathers and it was a double bed. It would have been pleasant to have been able to stretch my weary body into that bed. I declined to recline in that bed knowing in my mind that many souls had passed on while asleep there. I had never had the experience of watching someone die and was both a little excited and terrified by the forth coming event. I was about to experience the  worse and best thing that had ever happened to me.
   I must of dozed off. Once again I was awoken by sounds I could never describe in words. The sounds I heard and I will do my best to describe, were sounds of gut wrenching, pure unadulterated pain. But not the pain of which we all know. This was emotional pain converted into a pliable sound. I felt empathy for who ever was making this noise. I was afraid. I suddenly understood that the sounds that I heard were the sounds of someone battling the devil for their soul. I said a prayer and closed my eyes. No sooner then my eyes closed the sound emitted one more time and I quickly realized that the source was my own father. I rushed over to his bedside and placed my hand on his. His sparkling Frank Sinatra blue eyes opened wide and he looked back at mine. "Daddy are you OK?" "Yes Dolly" he replied then closed his eyes. As I turned to walk away he said “ It will be today." I did not need to ask him what he meant by that statement. I already knew. I looked at his face and noted he looked serene. He quickly fell back to sleep. I lay back on the couch and watched the rest of the night turn back into day. The day.


  1. I have to admit, Carrie Lynne, that this is a bit difficult for me to read, thought I must. It reminds me alot of my own father's passing.

    Take care, dear.

  2. Nancy~ It has taken me four years to be able to write it. There is more to the story that I must write soon. I found it very draining to do so.I am in a good place now mainly thanks to my humorous take on life.