This was going to be the first Thanksgiving Ellen and I spent apart since she came to Mom and Dad's house in Lakewood in 1989 for our first Thanksgiving together.
By this time Dad had been moved to hospice and there was no way of knowing how much longer he would be with us. Ellen and I decided I needed to get down to see him. She said, "as sad as it is for us to not be together, it is more important for you to see your Dad and be there for your Mom - we will have other Thanksgivings together."
I arranged to fly down Tuesday night after work, see Dad and spend Thanksgiving with Mom and come back home Friday in time for Max's basketball tournament over the weekend.
Mom picked me up in West Palm Tuesday night - it was too late to visit Dad - we would go in the morning.
Wednesday we drove to hospice. What struck me first was the emptiness of the room. When I saw Dad in July he was in ICU. There were so many monitors, machines, tubes, and attendees at the time, there was hardly room for us to stand bedside to visit. When I saw him again in September he had been moved to an interim facility waiting to go to rehab. He was still relying on a feeding tube and there were plenty of monitors - but he was now out of "danger" and moving in the right direction. Walking into his dimly lit room this day I saw - nothing. Nothing but an oxygen tube drapped loosely around my Dad's head, and my Dad - gaspping for breath, trying to hold on and obviously being made to feel comfortable as we all were to come to the realization and acceptance of the inevitable.
I am convinced he saw me. I saw him see me. He lifted himself toward me as I walked into the room. He couldn't speak and had no strength but I know he saw me and somehow had been waiting for me. Mom and I spent the next few hours with him. My sister-in-law Kelli and my two nephews Sam and Matthew had come with us as well. Noel Moore, a close family friend since before I was born came, my Dad's cousin Rabbi Morton Malavsky (yes, same name as my Dad!) from Hollywood, Florida would come, and finally Jeff would show.
Kelli and boys drove Mom back to the house. Jeff and I stayed with Dad in the room for another hour or so - not wanting to admit or accept it but somehow knowing that we needed to say our goodbyes. We would get the call 4 hours later and have to wake Mom up to tell her the news that Dad was gone.
