When joy and pain arrive at the same time
At least we had a little laugh.
My freshman college roommate was on the phone wanting help.
Anything big, anything joyous, we have shared since that day many decades ago when we were randomly assigned to the same dorm room.
And that was this week’s conundrum: how do you manage joy and pain when they are simultaneously swirling around your life?
“They’re telling me it’s time,” Friend shared the moment I picked up the phone. Time for her beloved 93-year-old father to enter hospice.
He’s been in and out of the hospital in recent months with labored breathing.
This wasn’t just any dad. He’s been a true giant of a man. Not a CEO or a billionaire, but a kind decent man who led his family and his community since Friend’s mom died soon after we graduated college.
Even after the blessing of all this time together, the family still wasn’t ready to let him go.
And then there was this: Friend’s oldest daughter is due to be married next month. A wedding shower was scheduled for this weekend. Her youngest daughter’s birthday was the next day. “I don’t want her birthday to forever be tainted with the passing of her grandfather’s passing,” she said.
I listened and understood, understood that there’s never a good day to let go of someone you love.
I also understood, Friend would not get to control the actual day her dad would pass.
Here is where we had the laugh. I reminded Friend of the trip more than 20 years ago when we all met up in New York City at Christmastime. That youngest daughter was a toddler and it was time to start potty training her. With her first two, Friend had had a very strict
schedule. “I decided to put it off a month or two,” she explained, “because I didn’t want to be running around New York City at the mercy of a toddler who says she has to go into every single public bathroom.”
It worked out, as these things do. That toddler was now the birthday girl turning 24.
“This isn’t potty training,” I gently pointed out. “You don’t get to control the schedule.”
We had a “Would that I could” moment.
From there, we unwound all the needs and prioritized. Dad’s comfort and care were #1.
Raising magnificent young women was also important. I gently reminded Friend. “Seeing someone you love out is as important and magnificent as bringing someone in,” I pointed out. “Daughters need to know this.
See this.”
Friend appreciated my counsel.
The family called in hospice. Her dad passed a few days later, two days after his granddaughter’s birthday.
That same granddaughter was holding his hand, singing to him as he transitioned.
In a few weeks we will all gather for the wedding. Tears will splash. For the joy. For the loss. I have no doubt Friend’s father will be there in spirit. He wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
Daryn Kagan is the author of the book“hope Possible: A Network News Anchor’s Thoughts On Losing Her Job, Finding Love, A New Career, And My Dog, Always My Dog” and Executive Director of the Just One More Foundation. Email her at Daryn@ darynkagan.com.