Waiting for the End?

I am sitting on the floor in my father's ICU room.  He has been in poor health for a long time.  It has been worse in the past few years and this past week, it has gotten sharply worse. 


Yesterday drove 12 hours to my mothers house.  The plan was to head to the hospital in the morning.  Then at 11:00 the hospital called.  I drove my mom in. My dad was in really bad shape.  We was sedated and stable, but still critical.


This morning we came back.  He was still sedated, but not as much.  I am not sure if he knew I was there or not, but I was glad I was there.  I am not going to go into his condition here, but suffice it to say that my mother, my sister and I are talking about end of life decisions.  I was not really prepared to that, but here I am.


I came up here by myself.  T has his business to run and does not think he can get away.  I know I am being selfish, but I don't give a shit about his business, I want my boyfriend, my partner with me.  I want him to hold my hand and tell me that it will be OK.  I have to be strong for my mother, but I really want my man to hold my while I cry into his shoulder.    I understand why he cannot come. I also know there is not much he could do even if he was here.  That said, I am still selfishly pissed off.


There is good here too.  I am glad that I came out to my family.  I am glad that my dad accepted me and I was able to talk to him about who I really am.  I am glad he got to meet the man I love and I did not have to introduce him as "my friend".  


I am trying too look for the silver lining, but it's hard. 


While my dad has been in poor health for a long time, he is well below the average life expectancy for men in the US.  It is making me think about how short life is.  About how you can never know when the end will come.