"You need to come home," was all my brother VL had to say as I understood that Dad had reached the end of his life. It was Tuesday, February 6, 2001. I immediately left the office, called my husband and then called the company's travel agency to check for the next available flight to New York. As we quickly packed for the trip, I made sure that the above photo and a rosary were in my purse. In the photo Dad looked so happy and proud at VL's wedding in 1997.
We arrived around 10:00 p.m. and went straight to the hospital from the airport. I was composed until I saw my Dad, Dad saw me, always a happy-go-lucky person, he smiled but his sunken eyes and weak voice said it all, I broke down, accepted that it was the end. Two years of chemotherapy destroyed Dad's body but the cancer never took away the spirit of the man and the love for his family. I held my Dad's frail body and for the first time was able to let all my tears flow, no longer holding back, while Dad telling me "Don't cry. It will be ok".
Every night I prayed and held onto the rosary as I tried to get some sleep. I listened to Dad's breathing through the machine. I kept watch whenever Dad tried to turn or tried to reach for the water. As I applied the lotion to help relieve the itching on his dying body, Dad asked, "Con khong ngu sao? Lo cho Ba nhung cung phai giu suc khoe." (Are you not sleeping? Make sure you don't neglect your own health while taking care of me.) I requested that I assisted the nurse when we washed Dad to make sure that he was not in pains when we tried to turn him. I noticed that even as gentle as I could holding him, his body was bruised easily. His liver was no longer functional and the rest of his body began to shut down. On February 10th Dad was no longer able to speak. His eyes closed but he was able to smile and squeezed my hand as I continued telling him about the weather, news stories, what happened at my work and improvement we were planning to do to our house in St. Louis. I sat next to the bed, holding Dad's hand, hoping that he would open his eyes, smiled, asked for water and started speaking again. It was one way conversations with little response from Dad but I held on, unable to let go of the last physical connection we had.
Looking at the photo of my Dad at VL wedding gave me strength. Dad looked so happy and proud. I wanted to remember my Dad being healthy, not the frail body destroyed by cancer and two years of chemotherapy. My Dad died peacefully in the evening of Tuesday, 13th of February. I don't want to remember the time we were together in hospice, I rather remember the good times we as father and daughter going to soccer and basketball games. The funny story how Dad protected me as the fans rushed into the stadium for a sold-out game. I want to honor my Dad for the life he lived, for the courage he showed when he held our family together through all the rough years, how he helped other people on the boat journey, for the lessons he taught us by living a life of integrity and great characters and his love as a husband and a father. And that is how I will always remember my Dad.
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