The Last Time I Saw My Dad

You never get over losing a parent suddenly like that. The last time I saw my father, he was in the hospital after surgery. I had flown in to support him and my mother during and after the surgery. I kissed him, told him I loved him, and told him I'd be back to visit in a month or so, then walked to the door of his room. I turned to say one last goodbye, and he had the saddest look on his face. I think he knew we'd never see each other again. I sobbed as I walked to the elevator. He died a few weeks later, having never left the hospital. That was 43 years ago and I still regret not going back and hugging him one last time.

We drove from South Louisiana to Sun City, Arizona every Thanksgiving for more than 25 years for a family get-together, and I called my dad almost every Sunday to talk. Something happened in 1996 and we missed the trip that year. On Christmas morning, at 8:00am, I got the call that dad had passed, from a massive heart attack. To this day, 29 years later, I still kick myself for not making that Thanksgiving trip!

The author and posters above were fortunate to have fathers who deserved their love. Not all of us did.

#3, if I recall your previous comments, you’ve lived a full life, in spite of your “daddy issues.” My utmost respect. I have a mixed relationship with my dad. He’ll be 99 in a few months, and for the most part, his mind and health are good. Mostly, I am grateful to have him. But I do understand some things of the angst in your comment.

#3, I am 70 y/o. My ftr disowned me and my 4 siblings after my parents' divorce when I was in college. I found out he had died when I happened to google his name and found out he'd died several years before. He was a church-going intelligent electrical engineer for Lockheed Martin. As a parent myself (mom), I have never understood how someone could choose to never see his children again

The author's story is so similar to mine. My mom died the day after Christmas in 1973. Christmas Day she had not been feeling well and she complained of pain in the back of her leg. I was a young mom in my early twenties and I knew nothing about deep vein thrombosis. My last memory of her was when we left that evening. She was holding our 7 month old baby, smiling and bouncing him on her knee. We got a phone call from my sister at two o'clock in the morning saying Mom had suffered a massive cerebral hemorrhage. She died a few hours later. I didn't go into her hospital room to see her. There was nothing left unsaid between us. We always expressed our love to each other. I wanted my last memory of her to be her smiling, holding my baby.

The last time I saw my Dad conscious was the night before he died. I was visiting at his bedside in the hospital, and he would drift between sleeping and consciousness. During one of his sleeping times, I began to say a Rosary kneeling at his bedside. He awoke and simply said, "I'm proud of you," and then went back to sleeping. He didn't want to take any morphine until he "had to". His doctor promised that he'd get one as soon as he asked...it was on his chart. However, that night when he finally asked me to get the nurse for the shot, the nurse said it wasn't in his chart and he'd have to get permission from an Emergency Room doctor. I was livid...my Dad's doctor had left instructions! It took about another half-hour before he received the relief he had been promised. He died the next day, with myself, my sisters and his grandchildren surrounding him. It was late September. Mom had already passed three years earlier from a heart attack on December 23rd - Christmas Eve Eve. My Dad was the love of my life, but TK comes darn close!

My dad died when I was 33 back about 40 years ago. My mom told me his health was failing and when I finally made the trip, I saw how ill he was and immediately called my sibs and demanded they make the trip. My sisters were with him when he had to be hospitalized and he died just 6 days later. I'm so glad I went and so glad my sibs did. I've seen him in dreams... they don't tell you about that but i think it must be common. There was a line in a movie "He sees ghosts" and it seems that it's as good an explanation as anything else. If you have a parent, take the time. Call weekly. Send stupid gifts. Flash forward to 16 years ago.... I had a pulmonary embolism seven weeks after surgery. At the time, survival rate was 70%. I'm fairly healthy but after a surprise like that, i feel I'm just one surprise away from going where I've prayed I'll go. I doubt my kids will feel like the author of this piece does but, time will tell.

My father died in an automobile accident while I was serving in the military. I was 18 years old. I miss him so much even now at 83.

Very touching. Thank you, poster.

In December 2024, my Dad took a fall. He eventually was hospitalized due to pain from failing hips. In the process, he was diagnosed with COVID™. Without our knowledge, they started administering remdesivir to a man who already had stage 3 kidney disease. Within days, he was at stage 5. We traveled from NC to see him. The first day, he was his old self - alert, but weaker. Each day he slipped. We stayed the week, but had to return. After the 9 hour trip home, the hospital called on New Year's Day 2025, to inform us he was actively dying. He passed away that evening, 7 days short of his 100th birthday.