She watched him, that's all she felt he needed right now, just to be watched over so she could make sure he was all right. This past year their marriage had been through some rocky times, he'd been lost, angry, confused, and locked inside a sea of self doubt that was threatening to drown him.
She remembered the day it happened. They knew it was coming, everyone did. The more callous among the soldiers on post had taken bets on how long it would take for him to succumb to his illness now that the only thing he was fighting to live for had gone ahead of him. When Denise died Jeremy cried like a baby, he had no warning, she was fine when he left for the day and gone when he returned at night. His father didn't even know his wife had died, or if he did, he wasn't able to help her or to even vocalize it to his son or daughter-in-law.
The medical examiner said she'd had an aortic rupture, a quick internal bleed with a second of pain and had died within moments. No suffering, no fighting, no treatment, no waiting, just the way she wanted it to be for Frank, but three years ago, that dream was shattered.
It started with a simple fall at the PX, they'd tried to blame it on being older, he was nearly 70, but until then he'd not had any health issues at all, at least none of any significance. It happened the one time and not again for a few months, that time he'd fallen down a flight of stairs a Jeremy's house. Denise insisted that he go to the hospital to be checked out, his blood pressure was up and the symptoms abated so they diagnosed TIA. It was the same thing a few weeks later when he began to have trouble speaking. A few weeks later, he began to have weakness on the other side of his body, especially in controlling his arm and hand. Denise then had a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach and forced Frank to see the specialist. A battery of testing was done before the verdict was in, Lou Gehrig's disease, exactly what Denise expected and dreaded at the same time.
They kept it quiet for nearly four months, until Frank's difficulties were plain to the naked eye, then they told their son and his family. It was decided they'd move in with him and his family, one of Frank's biggest fears was being put in a nursing home where he wouldn't be with his wife and son, Denise dedicated the last two years of her life solely to being her husband's caregiver, making certain he was as comfortable as possible and that his needs were being met. Jeremy remembered family meeting they had regarding what types of care Frank would allow and what types he wouldn't.
"ALS doesn't attack the brain, Mom, it attacks everything else, there's no reason not to intervene at every level as long as Dad is still Dad," Jeremy argued. "They have computers, they have feeding tubes, they have all these devices that can help."
"Jeremy, your father is fiercely independent, he won't want any of that," Denise said in a hushed whisper. "I might convince him to get a feeding tube and IV but I think we're out of luck when it comes to mechanical ventilation, he won't want it, he barely wants the nasal oxygen."
"God, Mom, I don't get it," Jeremy sighed. "He's having an okay time of it, we're not going to put him in a home, we can take care of him here, but I will not let my father suffocate to death!"
Frank had been sitting there listening to everything that was happening around him, he listened to his son and wife argue for or against this and that, but they forgot one key thing, it would be or would not be happening to him. Denise was struggling with this but she knew him well, he didn't see how much Jeremy was struggling until now. He let it go on for a few more minutes until he raised his left arm, the only limb he could still move and brought it down on the tray of his wheelchair, "ENOUGH!" he said as loudly and clearly as he could. "I choose. My body, my choice. Enough!"
"Frank, honey, we're just trying to make it easier," Denise soothed.
He laughed, "Easy? Nothing about this is easy. You think it's easy for me to be in this wheelchair, to be fed, to have you wipe drool off my chin, it's not! Nothing about it is easy and I want it over as fast as it possibly can be," he declared and left the room to be alone. He spent a lot of time alone.
As if a power from above was hearing his wishes, he lost all of his abilities except being able to breath and speak in short sentences. That he was able to do until the day he died.
The night he passed on would be forever ingrained in Emmalin's memory. It was the first time he'd refused to spend time with his son since he'd gotten sick. He kept sending Jeremy out of the room. Finally though, Jeremy heard it, he heard the sound his mother had identified for Emmalin when her father was dying four years earlier, that deep crackle in his father's chest and the far off look in his eyes. Jeremy sat with him then and didn't leave his side until he took his last shallow breath. It was in the middle of the night and he didn't wake his wife or his children until morning. When Denise had died, Emmalin did everything from selecting her clothing to choosing the inscription on her headstone. With Frank, Jeremy was meticulous about the details, making sure every last event was perfect. He didn't shed a single tear, at least not in front of anyone, even his wife.
Now, he was crying, silently and alone. Their son Adam pulled up, "Mom!" he called out. "It's time, we have to go."
"Let me get your Dad," she replied taking a few step towards her husband.
"I'll get him," Adam said and went to his Dad. "Come on, I just took Trisha to the hospital."
Jeremy smiled and started laughing, "I remember this moment, when it hits that you are about to be responsible for someone else."
"Scared were you?" the young soldier asked.
"Horrified," Jeremy admitted. "I actually left the hospital about 12 hours into it. Left your mother with Grandma and Nana and took off."
"And Grandpa Mike talked you down?" he asked. Grandpa Mike was the one that coached Little League and had tents in the back yard, Grandpa Frank was distant, strict, stubborn, he never fun loving and always straight as an arrow.
"No, actually, he did," Jeremy nodded at the headstone.
"Put your head down," Frank commanded his son when he found him about to throw up outside the hospital. "Think you're going to be sick?"
"No, Sir," Jeremy lied. His father would disapprove.
"Liar, I was ready to hurl the moment your mother told me the stick turned blue," Frank replied. "It goes away."
"When?" Jeremy asked taking a deep breath.
"About the time your kid gets married and has a family of his own," Frank replied. "Then you know you're done."
Jeremy laughed, "How do you know I won't screw the kid up big time?"
"Cause you're out here worrying about it," Frank told him sitting beside him. "Means you care enough to be afraid."
"You were afraid?" Jeremy asked looking up at his father, he was still looking stern and strict, but he knew what was underneath.
"Ah, Hell, kid, I was terrified," Frank recalled. "I was so scared I was going to screw you up, and I did too for awhile, trying to make you into something you weren't."
"You were pretty strict," Jeremy recalled. "I was afraid of you."
"Had to be strict, Michael always said that too, lighten up on him, and let him be a kid, but you had a responsibility, greater than his daughters', in my eyes. We were fathers, but me, I was not only your father I was your role model too. And now you're having a son, so you'll see firsthand how that goes."
"No offense but I don't think I want my son to fear me," Jeremy sighed. "Or to be so angry that he hurts Emmalin."
"I'm sorry it came off that way, but I'm not sorry I was tough on you," Frank said taking a seat beside his son on the curb. "If I had to be tough and ride your ass like I did to have you turn out like this, well, I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Even…and don't tell her this, even if I knew you'd end up hurting your mother, because I am damn proud of you."
"I'm proud of me too, I did get my thick head from you," Jeremy teased. "But I don't know, I think I got more from mom."
"You did," Frank agreed quickly. "You absolutely did. And you'll see, what I mean when you have the baby in your arms. It's one thing to nurture and educate and provide and all that stuff but there's a whole other side to it Jeremy."
"Emmi always says all you've got to do is love them," Jeremy chuckled.
"That's important, but that's not all it is. You want to know what I thought about when they told me we had a son?" Frank asked.
"Thank God I don't have to go to ballet recitals?" Jeremy only half teased. "That's what I thought when Emmy told me it was a boy."
"There was a fleeting moment of relief, yeah," Frank chuckled. "But not, actually it was this moment right here."
"You thought about this when I was born?" Jeremy asked shocked.
"I did," he recalled. "You'll see, you have the baby and you'll think about who he's going to be, what he's going to accomplish, you'll have one eye trained on the next generation, on teaching him how to do what you're doing, teaching him how to provide, lead…Mothers they get that intuition stuff that let's them know when you're sick before you do but us…fathers, we see the future. So you should be scared, cause you screw him up, God knows how long it'll take to fix it."
"Wonderful, I thought this little pep talk was supposed to make me feel better," Jeremy said cynically.
"I'm not done yet," Frank countered. "Peppy part's coming. If you turned out this good with me, and at 20 years old I was a hotheaded, stubborn, careless, crazy daredevil, your son, he's going to be pretty darned fantastic , because you are so much more than I was then, and so far beyond any dream I'd had for you or myself. I know that your little boy is very lucky to have you as his father, so you have nothing to worry about."
Jeremy looked up and smiled, "You think so?"
"I know so, that is if you're alive to be a father after Emmi gets done with you for taking off on her," Frank teased. "Come on, finish your coaching assignment, then I'll buy you a beer."
"And he did," Jeremy recalled. "And I will too. But we better get to the hospital so you can keep your life. I'll drive."
Jeremy drove as quickly as he could to the local hospital then waited for 10 hours with Emmalin. "Are you okay?" she asked him, he was so quiet.
"Yeah, I'm doing better now, thinking about Dad," Jeremy admitted. "I miss him. He'd be so proud of how Adam turned out. I don't think he had a prouder day then when he graduated from West Point."
"I miss him too," Emmalin admitted. "He was so much easier to talk to my Dad, he didn't say much he just listened."
"He did that," Jeremy agreed. "Then he'd talk and he'd say so much with so little, it was very cool." He brushed a tear away.
"He's still with you, honey. He was there with you today when you talked to Adam and he'll always be there when you need him to be," she comforted. "Inside you."
Jeremy took Emmalin in his arms and cuddled her just as Adam came out with a tiny new bundle in his arms. "Mom, Dad…I'd like you both to meet Nicholas Frank Sherwood," he beamed putting the boy in his father's arms. "I told Trisha about what Grandpa told you and she wanted to remember him. I think he'd like that."
Jeremy blushed and had to wipe a tear away, "I know he would."
Emmalin fussed over her new grandson and held him close for a few minutes before handing the tiny boy back to his father. She looked at her watch and laughed, "Happy Father's Day, Sweetie," she said to her son, realizing it was after midnight. "You too," she added to Jeremy. "Old timer now."
The both laughed and followed Adam back to his wife's room to visit with her. As they turned the corner at the end of the hall Jeremy thought he heard his father's laugh and smelled his cologne. He paused just outside the door, "Happy Father's Day, Dad. I love you. You were the greatest man I knew."
Dedicated to all fathers living or dead for the love they show day after day.