A Silver Bangle
My father-in-law is dying. He is so very dear to me, the father I never had. The time we have had together has been far too short. I wish we had more time, but I suspect that I would feel the same no matter how many years we could have had together. The girl that never had a father and the man that always wanted to be a father. It’s complicated, as families tend to be.
I have been sitting by his side over the last couple of days, through the frightful hallucinations, through the reduced respiration, through the too deep sleeps. I have been wearing a thin, silver bangle during these difficult days. It is something that I normally don’t wear on a regular basis, I just happened to have kept it on in the fog of these hospice days. I began to notice that while holding his hand, he plays with the bangle ever so slightly with his fingers. The bangle tells him that it is me beside him and it provides a much needed point of focus during times when that is almost impossible for him.
And now, the thin, silver bangle around my wrist reminds me of this connection that we have. When I am not with him, I too play with it ever so slightly with my fingers, thinking of him. The girl that never had a father and the man that always wanted to be a father. I may not take if off for some time to come.