lola guerrero

50-something empty-nest-search-for-God-and-happiness with more than a dash of humor

He Slips Into a Coma

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I have visions  of dad in the hospital shrinking because of weight loss.
He can barely move and I watch a plastic pad placed under his lower body by his nurse.

“What are you doing?”  I ask. I give her an annoyed look. Why would she do that?

We look at each other and I quickly turn away
and walk to my favorite window where I can hear drops of rain
coming down. The nurse’s eyes told me everything
I needed to know.

As dad was slipping out of our hands, we found ways to reach out for one another.
A hug or holding each other’s hand as we said a prayer each night for my dad.

Four weeks later he went into  a coma . . . not too long after that he was gone.

These visions and their memory cells live dormant throughout the year and clamor for attention
when vibrant colors of red and orange leaves begin to fall  from their branches and
Starbucks brings back its pumpkin spice latte.

I could never cry as we cared  for him the last month of  his life and didn’t cry
at his funeral, but around October–I get sad.

I’m happy God took him. Cancer cells ravaged his body and he was in so much pain.
If I’m in that much pain I would ask God to please take me NOW.

Dear God,

Thank you for the 46 years I knew my father.
The family misses him and I know and believe
we will see him one day.


Author: lolaguerrero

50 something, mother of two, married, grandson named Napoleon. Love to go to the gym, watch films, act, write, jog, walk 10 miles with my husband, wine and travel. I"m a double tall, NF latte with half a pump of mocha with whip cream.

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