Just Let Me Go…

Those four short words will never leave my memory, for as long as I live.

Those lonely words came from the mouth of my 83-year-old Dad in Sydney last week as I held his hand. I thought it would be the last time I saw him with my own eyes. He was exhausted and had lost the will to live.

Three weeks ago, my Dad was playing bowls on a Wednesday, as he normally does in Windsor, Sydney with his mates. He didn’t feel the best, so he went home and rested. The next day he didn’t feel so well, so he stayed in bed. Friday came and things just weren’t getting any better, so of course, he stayed where he was, in bed.

Come Sunday, he texted me that he might wait until Monday to make an appointment to see his doctor. My brother got the same message and asked him to call 000. This we reckon saved his life. After all the tests they did in hospital, they found out that he did indeed have a heart attack probably on the bowling green but didn’t think anything of it.

We reckon he had the attack after contracting some virus, which not only kicked him to the gutter, but also damaged his heart more than he wants to admit.

This all happened nearly four weeks ago, and he’s still in hospital.

I flew down after that dreaded phone call from my brother and sister saying, “You should come and see Dad now, not tomorrow.” That call had so many similarities with my Mum who passed over three years ago too. It broke me.

When I saw Dad last week, he was lying in bed looking a shadow of his former self. He didn’t look like the Dad I knew for 56 years. The bloke who taught me to mow the yard, and how to drive at the age of five. He was in tears as I held his hand, as was I.

I had no idea if I was losing my Dad as all his other organs were deciding to shut up shop and put the ‘shop closed’ sign up on the window. He could hardly breathe; he was coughing more than a regular chain smoker. He wasn’t in a good way. He just wanted to go.

Last week we spent many hours together in that hospital talking about life and the future, all in between his moments of sleep and exhaustion. When I flew home last Thursday I didn’t know if I’d see him again.

Well now, my Dad is now getting stronger, eating more, has been outside to get beautiful sunshine, has had visitors from his family and bowling mates, and has a more positive outlook on the future.

Will my Dad live to 100?

Probably not.

Will each day that we have my dad in our lives be special?
You bet it will. That showed this week as my son turned 23. A special day with many memories to share for us all.

I asked Dad if he wanted me to tell his Mackay friends what was happening with him, and he said yes, so here you are. My Dad, Rev. David Kidd is still with us and he’s fighting the biggest fight of his life right now. Reach out to him if you’d like to or tell me and I’ll let him know.

Oh, some advice if you have parents or grandparents. Call them or just go and see them today, not tomorrow.

As my mate Bill Mackay told me this week, we aren’t here for a long time, so make the most of it now.

You can join Rob Kidd from 5am weekday mornings on 4MK 1026 AM in Mackay and Proserpine, 91.5FM in Airlie Beach or just ask your smart speaker to play 4MK on iHeartRadio!

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