#this is a queued post idk what im doing wh en this goes live

[wind-becomes-lightning]

about last words and being ready

I was thinking about which Naruto character I could project on again today to get my feelings out, but though I had a half baked idea for Mirai, I decided not to do that, instead I’m doing a stream of consciousness discussion about last words.

See, one of the drawbacks of having a parent dying over several years is that you have enough time to think about how the funeral might be. Maybe that is an advantage too? At least while my father was still alive I used to think this is an advantage, that I could prepare myself slowly for all of the grief that was to come. It was like grieving before anything had even happened.

I used to think about this a lot, back then, because a few months before my father died, an acquaintance lost their father just by sheer bad luck. Saturday he was still working in the garden with his wife, Monday they had to turn off his life support. Brain aneurysm or how that is called. He was just there and then he was gone.

My Dad by comparison was already dying for over a year at that point and it was still going to be over 10 more slow agonising months. I used to wonder, what is better? Is it better that I have time to think about the future and know he won’t be there? Or is it better to just enjoy every second together until the very end, even if it's sudden?

I remember wondering about this, when I was thinking about his funeral again, months before he was actually dead. I was so embarrassed by that always, because it was like I was declaring him dead before he was. What if he got a donated liver in time? What if he healed? Then I'd never forgive myself for thinking such things.

Either way, one of the things I used to think over and over about was the speech. As far as I can gather, people in the US usually do a speech when a relative passes away, but that's by no means normal in Germany. So when I wrote these 500 speeches in my head to say at his funeral it was because I was convinced I would want to speak at his funeral. I thought I owed him as much.

At the time, I was pretty clear that I wanted to write my speech about last words, mostly because I really loved that HIMYM episode in which they all talk about the last words with their parents. I had this whole idea about how it does not matter what my father’s last words to me were, because he’s said so many great things to me over the years and who cares if the last ones are important or not. So was the plan.

I did not speak at my father’s funeral. In fact, I never even wrote that speech down. 

You know, the last thing my dad said to me was a month before he died. Just around my birthday, when I had just turned 23. 7 years ago. He had already been so sick that he wished me happy birthday 4 times on 3 wrong days, but I didn’t care, because I knew I’d never hear him say it again.

I was getting ready to leave back to the town my university was in and entered his room to say goodbye. My mom and him by then weren’t sleeping in one bedroom together for a long time, he had a sick bed and everything. So there he is on his bed, he was just recently released from hospital again but his health was already getting worse by the day. Mom and I later talked that he probably needed to go back again.

I can’t remember everything that happened then, I probably wished him well and said I hope he can stay at home even though I knew it wasn’t happening. I think that might have been the time he asked me what “whatsapp” is. My dad, who had always known everything about the newest technological advances had no idea what whatsapp was. That was more shocking to me than it should have been.

Either way, I said goodbye, leaned over to give him a hug and then he pulled me in. He was nothing by that point, a skeleton walking, if people would ask me what death looks like I would just show them a pic of him from that time. So he presses me to his meagre chest and I’m kinda confused and then I hear he is crying. I don’t think I’ve seen my dad crying even at my grandad's funeral. 

It pains me to admit that I was embarrassed by this, that I pushed him off so I didn’t have to hear him cry anymore. I didn’t even look at his face then. I just took a step back. That was when he grabbed my hand, wished me safe travels and then said. 

“Remember that I love you, always.”

I didn’t know what to make of that, I was embarrassed. I hummed and walked out, said goodbye again and closed the door. That was it, that was the last time I would ever talk to my father.

It hit me later that he probably was aware that he would never see me again and the pain of it was too overwhelming. My father didn’t want to die. As far as I know the last thing he said to my mom when he was brought to the hospital was “Don’t make them keep me here I will die, let me go home, I don't want to die here, let me go home” which is its on can of worms and how my mom survives without therapy is beyond me.

Well, his last words to me were very lovely and wonderful and that would have lent a perfect way into the speech I had planned to write, right? But I didn’t write it or hold it after all as I’ve said.

See, this is the question again, what is better? Being prepared for it or just being surprised by it. I thought I was ready for him to die, it was a long time coming. He was suffering so much and deserved peace. I was ready, I thought. It was going to hurt but I was prepared for it.

Even during the day he actually died. 7 years ago today, I thought I was so ready for it. We decided to turn off life support in the morning and then I just sat at home next to my phone and waited for it to ring. I tried to distract myself by talking about this and then with my roommate, seem very casual. I wanted to be there with my family members but I lived too far away to make it home. I waited for the call, because I was convinced I could handle it.

But then the phone actually rang.

I remember it so clearly, picking up my phone, there was my mom, she didn’t even say anything, she just sobbed before she got a word out and I felt like someone was pulling a rug from underneath me. 

I don't know how I managed to stand upright during the call. I don't know what happened the hour after it. All I remember is a blurred room, everything ebbing and flowing like I am on a ship and the empty pit that had suddenly opened inside of me. I thought I was prepared for this. I knew this was going to happen for hours by this point, but none of it mattered.

When I came home and they asked me if I wanted to see my dad one last time I said I wasn’t ready.

They told me that my option was now or never again, and I said I was not ready. So I didn’t go. (Later I found out neither did my mom or my brother)

I suddenly felt too young to have to deal with this, as if 23 wasn’t a full blown adult with responsibilities. I couldn’t -  It was too much of a burden to bear. 

And so, the speech never happened. I didn’t even want to be at the funeral. I was so angry and hurt and thought the idea of getting up and shaking hands with people who would tell me they are sorry for me when they don’t know me and don’t know how I feel was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. I wanted to yell at them to leave me alone and I did eventually yell at my mom and she yelled at me and .. death is inherently not fair.

I don’t think I even ever told my mother what the last thing he said to me was, but when I entered his room a month after he died and just sat on his bed and cried I remembered it suddenly. That he’d left me with love above everything else. I used to say, love doesn’t end with death and I believed that then still, even if it had gotten hard.

Well, I do not disagree with my original thesis statement that last words don’t matter. They are not interesting or important or change a person's relationship with you. If his last words would have been “buy a laser printer, because ink is so expensive” which wouldn’t even have been out of character for him, I would now laugh each time I buy ink from a story (sorry dad, still no laser printer!)

Still, despite all of that, I am glad that his last words to me were affirmations of love. I cherish that very much and I believe that is true. He is always gonna love me, my mom, my uncle, my brother, his children, all of us. And that is so important to me.

(Now imagine my freak out when I finally finished the Naruto manga after years of just putting off reading it fully and Itachi’s last words to Sasuke are almost exactly the same. My god, I needed a day break after that.)

If you want to do me a favour today, then please send your parents (if you get along with them) or your parental figures a message today and tell them something nice. Just be glad they are around to love you and care for you. I wish for you that you never have to lose them, or only when you are ready.

If such a thing even exists.

Or, otherwise, you could also sign up as an organ donor in whatever country you reside in. That would do too.

Don’t try to make yourself remember darling, Don’t look for me I’m just a story you’ve been told So let’s pretend a little longer Cause when we’re gone Everything goes on.