A Father’s Grief

As the dawn broke on what was our tomorrow, I was awake to see the rays of the sun start to ease through the window. All I was thinking about was Lindsay, and Jarrett. Jarrett was heavy on my mind, he was losing his sister and would never have what I have had all these years with my brother. I sat there looking out of the window with the most gut wrenching feeling in the world. Today, through her own loss of life Lindsay would help save and extend the life of others. It was the most vast array of emotions I have ever been through. Sadness, loss, heart break, emptiness, loneliness and the list goes on. We tried to make the day as routine as all the days before, but there was nothing routine about this day. The day started with our morning visit with Lindsay, there were so many tears, so many memories and so many dreams lost. We met with Rodney that morning to discuss the, I hate using this word but there really is no other, itinerary for the day. We met with Dr. Huffmon, Elizabeth, palliative care, and the Chaplin. As the day moved forward like so many days before, my thoughts drifted to the millions of people in this world that had no idea what we were going through, they were carrying on with their lives as if nothing was wrong. If Lindsay was not in the accident, if she was not laying in hospital bed, I would have been doing the same thing. Never thinking that some where in this world a mom and dad was saying good-bye to their child. I stood in Lindsay's room and looked at all the photo's of her and her friends that were on the walls, the banner that her school sent signed by all her classmates, the CD player was playing very softly as Queen B sang to her, there was a bible that was so lovingly given to us, a medallion that a friend had been given when his daughter was in the hospital, and the cutest little monkey hanging from an IV stand with the words "Hang In There" printed on its shirt. So many things that showed that so many people loved this young lady. The time had come for Lindsay to be moved from her room in the STICU to the surgical prep room and reality set in, this is it. This will be the last time I take a walk with my daughter. So very different from the walks we would take on the beach looking for shells, and of course, taking pictures. We were surrounded by our hospital family, Lindsay's doctors, her nurses, and of course Rodney. They were not in front of us or behind us, they were right by our sides like they had been since our first night in the hospital. Their love, support and care for Lindsay went far beyond any job description ever written. Every person that was taking that walk with us had been touched by this beautiful young lady, she had touched their heart and changed their lives forever.

As I held the wrist of my daughter and felt her last heartbeat I knew she was gone. With a soft kiss on the cheek and a loving good-bye we left our girl for the last time. It was now time for her to begin saving and changing lives. I remember thinking as we walked back to the STICU "Look at you now Lindsay Girl, you have on your white coat and it reads "Lindsay M. Benton M.D." I have never shared that before, and I don't know why I am sharing it now, but it was my way of visualizing her with no more tubes and no more wires, doing what she had dreamed of doing.