I flew home on October 16, 2021, to be with my Dad during his last physical days in this world. Moments that were equally beautiful, hilarious, and hard (in other words, humanity) transpired until his death on November 2.
When I arrived, my Dad greeted me like usual, with a smile and open arms. In the days that followed, I sat with him, my Mom, and my brother as we waited for what the Hospice nurses told us was coming. We had time to share our love for each other, and together, we faced the uncertain road ahead. Even though it was the most challenging moment in my life, I felt great love and a sense of gratitude. I remember that my heart was more open than it had been in quite some time. I also felt I was "home" for the first time in a long time, though I feared it would be the last time I felt this sense of "home."
In my Dad's last moments of consciousness, I was alone with him when he jolted awake to say, "Mandy, I want to go home. Take me home!" For the next half an hour, he was in a fit of rage and confusion and kept saying repeatedly, "Mandy, take me home. Take me home." It was tough to comfort him, and I felt a sense of desperation to calm him down and alleviate his confusion. My Dad always had a sense of humor, so I sat at the end of his hospital bed and began to pretend as though I was driving him "home." I imitated honking the horn and said, "Honk, Honk! Move out of the way! I'm taking Dad home." Turning toward humor served as a pivot point for his frustration, resulting in relief and a huge smile on his face. He then giggled, kicked my butt, and slipped into unconsciousness forever. I’ll never forget our laughter and that moment.
For the past year, I have been curious about where "home" was for my Dad and what he envisioned. I have had many of my Dad's old journals on my bookshelf since I returned home after his death. I finally found the courage to pull them off the bookshelf and read some of the passages. I found some of his thoughts in a journal entry entitled, 'Come Home,' dated January 28, 2018. My Dad wrote simply, "Home is where the heart and God intersect."
What a gift to solve this mystery and learn what "home" meant for my Dad through his own words. Also, what a gift to have been present for him as he journeyed “home,” the place where the heart and [his] God intersect.