A few years ago,
My dad died.
It was a week before my birthday.

And it was pretty sudden.

I received
An early morning phone call
From my little sister
Who told me:
Dad had surgery last night.
He had some pain
In his upper back.
He thought it was sore
From playing sports,
Because he was still
Really active.

When the pain didn’t subside,
He went to the doctor
Who informed him
That his aorta was torn.
And he needed to have surgery.

My dad always wanted
To have all of the options
So he could make the best decision.
So he asked the doctor
What the other options were.

The doctor told him
In no uncertain terms,
“Well, you could opt
Not to have surgery
And go home.
And die.”

So that was how
My dad decided
To go ahead
And have surgery.

And I remember
That I started to cry
As my sister told me this,
Even though
I told my husband:
“I don’t know why I’m crying.
There’s nothing to cry about yet.”

But it’s strange how
Sometimes we know things
Before we really know them.

So we went to the hospital,
And I remember
After the surgery,
The surgeon came into the room
Where all of my family had gathered.
He was still wearing
His surgical scrubs
And he looked exhausted,
And he wiped his brow
And told us how the surgery
Had taken much longer
Than he’d anticipated.
Because once they began,
My dad’s aorta
Had fully ruptured.
So the surgery
Lasted for hours
While they tried
To repair the damage.
And he told us
That every effort
Had been made,
To prevent him
From going braindead.
And now he would spend time
In the Intensive Care Unit
So he could recover.

And I remember
How we went to see my dad
In his new room
And he was trying to wake up
And sit up.
But it was causing
Too much stress,
And his blood pressure
Was going too high,
So they had to sedate him.

But I remember thinking
That if anyone had
The will to recover, he did.
A very determined will, at that.
And so I don’t think
Any of us doubted
That he would recover
Even if we were
Only basing it
On his sheer stubbornness.
And the hospital staff
Reassured us
That they would let us know
When he woke up.

So every night
For a week,
My sweet husband
Would come home from work.
And every night
He would insist
That I go and visit my dad
At the hospital,
While he put the kids to bed.
And I argued with him
At first.
Like father, like daughter
I suppose.

Because,
I protested,
The hospital hadn’t called
To tell us
That he was awake yet.

But I’ve learned,
More times than I’d like to admit
That when he insists on something,
It’s a good idea
For me to listen to him.

And so I went.

I would drive
The 35 minutes
To the hospital
To arrive
Just before visiting hours ended.
And it’s funny
Because I still remember
What songs were on the radio
As I drove there.

And after a few nights
Of driving to the hospital
My dad
Still hadn’t woken up.
And I did notice
Small signs
That this might not end well.
Things like:
His circulation wasn’t very good
And they had to keep him sedated
So his blood pressure
Wouldn’t get too high.
Small signs
That I dismissed,
Because I really thought
He would overcome them,
And wake up soon.

But one week
After his surgery,
The doctor said
He wanted to meet
With all of the family.
So we gathered
In a tiny room.
And he proceeded
To tell us
That my dad
Had suffered a stroke.
And his brain had been damaged
So he would no longer
Be able to wake up.
And I can’t remember
Exactly how he said it,
But it sounded like
He was giving us options,
About whether or not
To remove my dad
From life support
Even though
There was really
Only one option.

So that was how
We all decided
To go ahead
And remove my dad
From life support.

And at his funeral
I told the story
About the time
Our pet hamsters died
When we were kids:

My siblings and I
Were watching TV one day
And my parents
Came into the room.
And after turning it off,
They stood in front
Of the television.
And with soberness
And sadness,
My dad said:
“So, your pet hamsters
Have passed away.”

Pause

“Okay,” we said.

Pause

“Can we turn our show back on now?”

In our defense,
There was no way
To pause
Whatever show we had been watching.
There were no DVRs back then.

But nevertheless
And notwithstanding
My dad was really upset,
Because he said:

“Great.
One day I’m going to die,
And the only thing
My kids will care about
Is when they can
Turn the TV back on!”

And he laughed
And shook his head,
As parents do.

And we went back
To watching our show,
As kids do.

But when he passed away,
That day in the hospital,
None of us
Were in a hurry
To get back
To watching TV.
And not just because
By then, everyone had a DVR.

And I think he was happy
Or perhaps relieved
That we didn’t respond
The same way
That we did
When those poor hamsters died.

Because I’m sure he knew
That we were so sad
About the hole he was leaving
In each of our lives.

And I’m also sure
That he didn’t really
Want to leave us either.
And he only did so
Out of obedience.

Because even though
He was unconscious,
The fact is:
My dad –
My proud Japanese dad
Who never cried –
Allowed a single tear
To escape his closed eyes.
And it rolled down his cheek,
While we were all gathered
Around his bed,
During those last moments
Of his life
Here on earth.

And that tear
Made it feel
Like he was saying:
I don’t want to leave
And I’ll miss you, too.

And one day,
I’ll ask him about it.
One day
When I see him again.

Because the greatest comfort,
Is the reality
That I will see him again.
And I’m sure
That when that day comes,
We will cry
And reminisce
And laugh
About lots of things.

Even that one time,
When we were kids
And he told us
That the hamsters died.
And we wanted to watch TV.