My biggest fear has always been losing the ones I love. Some people call it abandonment issues, and that’s probably what it is, but I don’t know. I’m not afraid of being alone, I’m afraid of the people who I love and care about being the ones gone, dead, hating me, whatever the reason. I can be alone any day and be fine, I like it honestly. What I hate is knowing in the back of my mind that those people won’t be there forever.

Today was no different, though the heavy weight of my father laying in a hospital bed sick and dying lay heavy on my heart. He found out about his third round of cancer two months ago and everything has gone down hill since. Now he has Covid-Pneumonia and he’s growing weaker every second of the day.

Yesterday I had gone to see him and I don’t think he even knew I was there. The moans and groans echoed in my mind all night, driving me to drown my sorrows.

Today, Addy and Grayson and I all lay in my bed lazily. We were hungover, my best friend and her boyfriend (and my only friends) had spent the night on my floor so I invited them to the bed when we all woke up. It was calm, silent. Everything was as it always was, and I loved it, even when I knew in the back of my head this was the calm before the storm. Addy, my best friend of three years, was everything that I needed in the hardest of times. She knew that I was struggling, and just her mere presence was keeping me afloat.

She had leaned over to show me a video on her phone when mine started buzzing. My heart dropped. The number that flashed across the screen was a known number. The main hospital line.

I answered it after two rings.

“Hi is this Ms. White?” Said the voice. A young woman, likely a nurse. “This is her,” I had said, my voice shaking.

“Hi I’m calling to give you an update on your father. His doctor would like to speak with you.”

Everything in my body felt like slow motion. I scramble up off of the bed, though it felt like my legs and feet weighed thousands of pounds. I walked through my house and to my moms room, pushing the door open easily. It never latched all the way, you had to pull it to.

The doctor on the phone was speaking and I was hearing it but barely. My heart hammering in my chest, in my ears, my head hurt.

“We are afraid your father is going to go into complete heart failure. His body is failing him. You are his medical power of attorney, so this is up to you.”

I repeated the words to my mom, who immediately begins to sob. I didn’t need that. That made me so angry. I needed her to be strong, because I couldn’t. Not now. I needed her to tell me what to do. But her heart was breaking too. They hadn’t been in a relationship for 18 years, but still to this day she will say he is her soul mate.

I walk away, just listening to the doctor as he explains everything that is going on. He asks if I want them to do everything in their power, or if I want to verbally tell them I want a DNR. Do not resuscitate. He says that with the extent of the damage they may inflict, that this would be the best answer. I don’t know what to say. I do, but I know that it’s not what he would want. I want to scream ‘save my daddy, please save him, I need him,’ but I know that he would never be the same, and if they did save him that two hours from now it may happen again.

I just sit there, turning off every emotion. “At this moment in time I’d say do everything in your power, but if it’s not enough it’s not enough. I can’t say don’t save him, I just can’t.”

As I’m speaking, voices in the background are muffled and a bit panicked. “I’m sorry, Ms. White, it seems like his heart has stopped just now, I have to go. We will do everything we can.”

Click. Beep beep. The call is dropped.

I can’t hold it in any longer. Everything inside of me breaks into a thousand pieces. My chest goes tight and I can’t breathe. My mom is clutching me to her, but all I want is to die. I don’t want to be touched. I pull away, and I know that hurts her, but I just can’t do it.

I call my brother, trying to calm myself. I tell him everything that just happened. I know he’s breaking too, but he stays strong and just says, “okay, let me know what happens.”

Click, beep beep.

I don’t even have time to breathe before I get the call again, the same one from the beginning. Main hospital line.

“Ms. White, we are so sorry, we did everything we could but he didn’t make it,” says the doctor.

As crazy as it sounds, a weight is lifted from my shoulders. Thank you God. I never prayed before, but I was so relieved when he said those words. My daddy wasn’t suffering anymore, and I didn’t have to make that choice. I didn’t have to tell them to let him die. Thank you God.

Everything else happened really fast. I walk into my room where my best friend sits on the edge of the bed waiting. She knows I don’t want hugs, she knows that I just need to cry. We just sit there, me crying, her just being there. It was all I needed.

It was time to say goodbye.