Another first: Navigating the death of a parent

I feel the stress of going through the motions all over again as I write this.

Throughout this journey, my little sister and I learned so much. Even before my dad was diagnosed, while he was constantly going back and forth to the hospital, it was a lot.

My dad was diabetic, and it was difficult for him to take care of himself. A Mexican man, used to the Mexico City life and food…the pan dulce, the tortillas…the pan. Need I say more?

He was also very prideful. We offered countless times for him to stay with us, but he loved his independence and wasn’t ready to give that up.

It’s also difficult when someone immigrates to another country and doesn’t always know how to navigate the medical system or understand everything that’s happening. As the years went on, more health issues appeared. His kidneys were deteriorating, and he was having problems with his blood.

Then we found out it was cancer.

Colon cancer.

Cancer that could have been treated if it had been caught earlier.

I never imagined, in a million years, that my dad would die from cancer. Maybe I thought diabetes would eventually catch up to him…but cancer? Never.

So there we were.

Learning what kind of cancer he had. What chemotherapy was. How much chemotherapy he would need. How often he would need it. Scheduling appointments. Making sure he got to his lab work.

But here’s the thing…

He never received chemotherapy.

Every time it was scheduled, he was too weak.

The original prognosis of two to three years quickly became one month from the day he was diagnosed.

Everything happened so fast.

My sister and I suddenly found ourselves learning about Power of Attorney, writing a will, and hospice care. We were only in our thirties, but I felt like a little kid trying to navigate a world I knew nothing about.

Lost.

Because we weren’t just trying to figure out all of the paperwork and bureaucracy—we were taking care of our dad.

Feeding him.

Helping him get up to use the restroom.

Cleaning him.

I have a child, but taking care of a grown adult is…different.

My dad passed away in hospice, by himself.

That hurt us so much.

But over time, I’ve also realized it may have happened exactly how he wanted.

He didn’t pass away in a hospital room.

He didn’t pass away in the back of an ambulance.

He passed away somewhere he was comfortable.

I was on my way to see him after getting my son ready for bed. I was about to take my dad’s dog with me when my phone rang.

Hospice told me he had passed away peacefully.

Then they told me something I’ll never forget.

They said he was the first patient they had ever cared for who let them know he was comfortable before he passed.

And then they told me something I still carry with me today.

“You did right by him.”

Because that’s what he wanted.

He wanted to be comfortable.

Throughout all of this, my sister and I experienced so many firsts. Things I never imagined I’d have to learn at this stage of my life.

And strangely enough…

I’m grateful.

I’m grateful my dad is no longer suffering.

I’m grateful my son got to know what an amazing grandfather he had.

I’m grateful I wasn’t navigating it all alone.

If you’re in the middle of caring for a parent, making impossible decisions, or feeling completely lost, I want you to know this:

You are not alone.

None of us are ever truly prepared for this part of life.

But somehow, we learn.

We love.

And we carry the people who raised us with us, long after they’re gone.

Dad, I hope we honored you the way you deserved.