Fathers Day; My Story

This was the last picture we took all together. 

It was sabbath dinner in Nahariyaa, Israel. We could tell he wasn't feeling well, walking slower, speaking lower, and in pain. But, they allowed him to leave the hospital and that alone was a blessing. I remember most of our family on my dads side came from France, we all had dinner on the terrace, and even with all of his pain and little energy, he still made the effort to tell one last Shabbat joke. I wish so much I could remember that joke. But he spoke low, we were all so quiet, and we all laughed, but all teared because we knew. We knew what was coming. He went back to the hospital the day after, and my brother and I needed to go back home to Miami to watch the store, or maybe that was just an excuse to leave that place where his regression of life was occurring and I just couldn't see it anymore. I was so in love at the time, and it was my boyfriends birthday, all I wanted was to see him, the person that seemed to be the only thing to make me better. So my brother and I flew back home for about five days, when we received another call. "You need to get on a flight right now, we don't have much time." This just didn't make sense to me! I spoke to him on the phone the day before, he seemed to be ok, or maybe I didn't pay attention, because he kept asking me "what store are you working at?" It was his store. We flew back to Israel, I walked up those hospital stairs, and there he was, but this time not so pleasant. Eyes closed, seemed like he lost all his weight, hands folded and didn't want to speak at all. But, he opened his eyes for me, it was almost as if they turned light blue, and he seemed angry that we came back, because he knew what was going to happen and he just didn't want us to see this. So he closed his eyes and didn't speak anymore. The days seemed longer, my mom usually slept with him at the hospital on a small bed on the floor, but one night something told me it was time for me and my brother Jon to let her relax and spend the night. I thought it would be ok, he just seemed so much better that day, he was eating, drinking, and even put his head on my shoulder while I sang him the song he used to sing to me as a little girl, and he looked up at me and said "Sarah". It was amazing, because it was the first time in a while he didn't call me my mothers name. So we slept there, and nothing was better, he was in so much pain, screaming at his deceased parents and begging them to take him.. Than called out all of his sisters and brothers' names. All I wanted was to get picked up because I didn't want to be there and see this. It was killing me. Than he kept opening his eyes and looking at me and my brother and asking "give me the key", "give me the key", while also ordering us to watch over a certain sibling. We finally all fell asleep. We woke up the next morning and it was a miracle! His eyes were wide open, I fed him and he actually ate! I have him water and he actually drank! He sat up, as my brother helped him, and didn't scream. I thought it was a miracle. Than the doctors kindly asked us to let them bathe him, so they did and even changed his sheets. We walk back in the room and he was grunting, eyes closed again, seemed to be in more pain, so much he couldn't express it, and than a weird noise occurred, like a bubbling water noise coming from his mouth wide open. I panicked! I told the doctor something was wrong that I think I gave him too much to drink. It was only 7am than and my mom and other brothers hadn't arrived yet. I called my mom in panic and told her to please make it here, something bad is happening. He had fallen into a coma, the doctor gave him two days at most. So, we began to make arrangements and my mother, aunt, brother, and I left to go pick up some things from the apartment. Right when we arrived there, my brother called and said "something is happening his breathing is going slower, come now"... All in panic my eldest brother driving way over the speed limit so we could make it in time, about 5 minutes away and my other brother called and said to me "it's over, that's it" I calmly told everyone in the car "it's over, that's it". It was quiet, we pulled up to the hospital, I ran up the stairs so quickly and there he was, gone. That was my weakest point, I had never seen anything like it, felt anything like it. I collapsed and my aunt picked me up, I remember screaming so loud and a patient that slept next to my father who became one of his friends, a big Greek man came and held me tight, and said "it's ok, it's ok". I wonder where that man is today, I would love to thank him for that. My aunt than took me into the bathroom and put my whole head under the sink, I couldn't breath. Finally, rabbis came and prayed on him, we left the hospital and buried my father the following day. I remember writing a speech with the phrase "G-D really gained another angel today" because he truly had. My father was an amazing man, never jealous, envious, always giving, but yet never satisfied he didn't have enough to help the world. Truly a man to admire a man that I was more than proud to call my DAD." ... Happy Father's Day my angel. Rest well