February 2, 2003 – my father passed away after a long bout of emphysema.
I still think about my dad a lot. Our last conversation was Christmas Eve, 2002. He called me out of the blue. After our usual brief conversation about the weather, he came out and point-blank asked me if I was happy. His question blind-sided me. We had NEVER had those types of conversations. After a few pauses (and a lot of “gulps”), I was able to tell him that I was, indeed, happy. He breathed an audible sigh of relief and told me that hearing me say that I was happy was music to his ears….
He was admitted to the Misericordia Hospital in Edmonton about three days before he passed away. I was able to see him the evening before he died. He was in a coma. He looked so frail. My whole family was there when I got to his room. I held his hand and whispered to him that I was there and if he needed to go, he should. I hoped that he heard me. After a few hours, everyone left – my older brother took my mom home – she, herself was recovering from cancer surgery. The last person to leave was my sister, Anna.
She left the hospital just before 11:00 pm. I was staying with my oldest brother and his family (he lives about two blocks form the hospital). We got the call just after midnight that my dad had passed away. I like to think that my dad knew that it was safe for him to go because there was no one there to try to stop him. That was my dad….
Al Zylstra 