This Thing Called Life by Ki O’Shea

I’ve been watching my dad decline extremely fast. If I could be honest, I’m petrified to walk upstairs because I don’t know what I might see…

I don’t know if he will be alive. I don’t know if he will be awake and confused about who I am. I’m really scared that I will find him…dead… whoa… I said it.

I looked at him with tears in my eyes a few days ago. His eyes were open and we stared at each other for what seemed like hours. I told him I’m not releasing him because if I do, who will I call and who will literally stop the bus to calm me down or tell me everything will be ok. I’ll share that story in a moment…

As we stared I asked, “am I going to be ok?” He nodded his head. I asked was he going to be ok. He just stared. I told him through tears that he needed to get better because he is supposed to help me babysit the baby and he has to be there … I asked again and he didn’t respond. But I asked again will I be ok and he nodded his head head again.

How does God know we are strong enough to handle these experiences? Like, didn’t He already give me enough over the last three years?

This weekend while watching my dad die, I had to respond to a stupid ass email from that attorney. I had to still take care of Sedinam and we went to the park, we colored, we read. We laughed. We watched tv. We finally watched the new movie “Wish.”

Today I dropped her off at school. My baby is attending school. She was officially diagnosed with autism. She is enrolled in ABA therapy and she is in a special education class. Her schedule is heavy. She is always so happy and she loves when I’m singing to her. We stomp around the house and we dance in the kitchen, going up the stairs, getting out the tub, getting dressed. I am probably going to start her on an instrument when she turns five.

I delivered her at 25 weeks. She was 13 ounces. I got to see her develop. Imagine a coke bottle. I got to see what most people will never experience. Her skin was not developed. God afforded me this. I had no choice but to be patient through this journey. I was able to her life evolve every single day with her. I protected her. I followed the directions to ensure she was safe. I listened to her doctors and I read resources that suggested. I prayed a lot.

For the last three years I’ve been the caretaker for my dad. Over the last few months, I have been able to walk upstairs and sit with him in the middle of the night. I read while he is sleep. I listen to him snore. I have lavender in the diffusers. I have a system for his caregivers/nurses/aides. I watch…am watching him decline.

He has no bowels sounds. He doesn’t eat. He has been bed bound for about three weeks now. He looked at me this morning and asked a question that made absolutely no sense, but I did my best to respond. I clean his face. I clean his nails. Everyone makes sure his skin is cared for properly. He doesn’t urinate much anymore and reading and listening to the nurses I’ve learned a lot about the process of your body shutting down.

One of my best friends told me he will come to stay with me for awhile if I need him. He actually said I’m not going to be on. Another just called and will be there with me for court, but Anthony also talked to his dad about traveling with us.

I asked the attorney what does she want. What does he want? Why would she continue this litigation and take this man’s money to avoid paying child support. He is paying a “handsome” amount I replied to avoid helping. My suggestion was keep it. Keep it all. It’s more stressful to go through the litigation system and it’s obviously to bully and to stress me out.

All of the individuals that come through my doors for both Sedi and my dad remark all of the time about how calm I am. She vomits at unpredictable times and her caregiver said, you are always so calm. Even through this litigation, I am calm, but I keep doing what I don’t need to do.

I trusted God while watching Sedi grow. I’m trusting God as I watch and see my dad decline. So, I need to do the same … but the problem is … life and death makes sense. The in between… the humans involved… don’t.

All I can say is I’m blessed.