A man in scrubs says, “Ms. Conway, you need to tell him goodbye.”
“I’m not telling him goodbye. I’m telling you to fix this.”
Nobody moves, nobody listens, and my dad is still going.
Dying.
And if they won’t do anything, I will.
I swipe the tears from my eyes and sniff, declaring to the room, “I—I’m the power of attorney.” My voice fills with fight, and every head in the room whips towards me. “I want to rescind the DNR.”
I know enough from internet research to know I have that power—my dad just gave it to me.
The nurse’s eyes go wide. “Ma’am, are you sure?”
Everyone’s waiting on me, including a woman squaring up to start CPR. Her hands hover above my dad’s very still chest. She has to save him.
“Ye—”
Nash grabs my arm. “Rue,” he pleads. “He didn’t want this.”
“I don’t care what he wants,” I argue. “It’s not right.”
“It won’t save him.”
“It’s not right!”
Because it’s all I can think. Because it’s not. Right things can’t hurt this bad. Right things can’t happen after ice cream sandwiches.
Nash’s voice stays low and slow, “And it won’t save him.”
The silence is so loud, the pause so long.
“Ma’am,” someone says. “Confirm rescinding of DNR.”
Nash’s begging eyes break me.
My chest heaves with a resigned sob and a hole opens up inside me as I shake my head.
They all step away, and I take Cap’s hand in mine. My “Goodbye, Dad,” comes out broken.
Then I watch my dad die.
When the nurse announces time of death, the cry that follows is one I’ve never heard in my life. One my body has never been pushed to the point of needing to make. Yet here in this hospitalover a man I didn’t have nearly enough time with, it reaches that point.
I fall to the floor, Nash right beside me to catch me when I do. He holds me and all my hurt in his arms as I mourn the man I didn’t know my life was missing.
Fifty-Two
There have been two times in my life where I’ve made decisions against my better judgment. Both of which defied logic and responsibility and long-term stability. Instances where I’ve taken a page from my mother’s playbook and threw caution to the wind, resulting in me having my heart destroyed in ways I never believed I’d survive while altering the course of my life in ways I’d never change.
The first time was the day Nash walked into Old Vines eight years ago and I all but cut my own heart out of my chest and handed it over to him before I even knew his name. When he left, it left me shattered. But I got Bennie. And I got him back.
The second was two weeks ago when I decided to meet a man I never knew existed and ended up wishing I’d known forever. Instead of forever, I got thirteen days. My dad’s gone—the second one I loved and lost in a lifetime. And even though he left me without us finishing what he started decades ago, I’m better for having known him. My life is.
He was right when he said goodbyes are sad, but too-soon goodbyes are the bitterest of pills to swallow.
Even though my dad spent his life looking for gold he never found—gold I was desperately hoping would be the answer tomy problems—I wouldn’t change a thing. About any of it. Even though Mom needs a surgery I don’t know how I’m going to pay for, and the store will be done the second I call the roofing company and tell them I can’t cover their bill, I found something so much better than I knew to look for. Pieces of me I didn’t know were missing.
