The night before my dad died, my sister and I stayed at the hospital all night. Neither one of us had gotten much sleep for several days and we were what you would call “slap happy.” I know, I know, it’s most likely wrong to enjoy waiting for your dad to die, but I tell ya what, it was a riot.
My family uses humor to adjust to things; we adjusted. We were sitting in a small waiting room and we got this crazy idea to do prank phone calls from the hospital. For some reason, we adopted an Indian accent. It went something like this.
“Heh-lo, thees ees doctor Rashid from de hospetal. I have good news for you and bad news. Thee bad news ees that your father just eescaped from the hospetal. Thee good news ees that he steel has hes legs.”
“No, no no, I got it I got it. “Heh-lo, thees ees doctor Rashid from de hospetal. I have good news for you and bad news. Thee good news ees that you have 24 hours to live. Thee bad news ees that I forgot to call you yesterday.”
Of course, we didn’t actually call anyone. We just went on for about an hour doing these pretend prank calls. We had to knock off the fun for fear of being kicked out of the hospital.
Then we went in and visited my dad. Who was out of it, about as close to comatose as you can get. What a shift. It’s weird what death does to the living. If my dad were able to join us in the other room, he would have loved it.
I’m glad I have a sister who can relate to my mind. I’m glad my dad helped us be that way. I’m glad my dad died so well that we could find humor in it. Thanks dad, that was the most fun I’ve ever had waiting for someone to die.