The late-night nursing staff came on duty and their activities became as hushed and muted as the lights that softly illuminated the hospital room where Caitlin Potter now waited for the inevitable. A tumult of painful memories kept surfacing and tearing at her emotions as she continued to look upon the bed on which her father lay dying.
. . Thirty-three years it had been. Thirty-three years since she had last seen her father, Roy. She was only six or seven years of age at the time of her parent's divorce, but Caitlin could still remember the deep hurt and confusion she felt as her father left their home for the final time. Her once complete family---a fairly happy one, she thought---was then reduced to only herself, her mother, Jean and baby brother, David. Her mother had tried to explain the reasons why her father would no longer be living with them, but Caitlin didn't understand the meaning of what were politely called "irreconcilable differences". The term had no importance for her at that time. Not then. It was only when her own marriage ended abruptly some eighteen years later did Caitlin feel its heart-rending impact. But as a child, Caitlin felt only bewilderment and loss, which then metamorphosed into a wounded bitterness that would remain with her all during her childhood years and into adulthood.
. . Roy had written only occasionally during her growing years, then not at all. Though Caitlin occasionally wondered about his whereabouts and well being, she would quickly pushed all thoughts of him out of her mind. She had grown to adopt her mother's aloof attitude that all was best left forgotten.
. . Caitlin reflected on the irony of yesterday's phone call from her mother. The woman who had initiated the breakup of the family was now pleading for a final reunion. Jean had called from Cambridge, Ohio, to tell her daughter that her father was deathly ill, suffering from an incurable cancer. The doctor's prognosis was that Roy only had a few days remaining, if that long, and did Caitlin want to come to express a final goodbye to her dad? Caitlin declined at first. The prospect of facing her father after this many years of estrangement made her feel uneasy. Any affection toward her father had, she felt, dissipated with the passing time. Still, Caitlin anguished over her final decision. To see her father again after all these years! Did she really want to? Could she face the man who deserted their family while she was still a child? Did she still owe him any allegiance even as he was nearing death?
. . After a sleepless night, Caitlin convinced herself that, while she owed little to the man who had fathered her, she did feel a small sense of duty to pay her final respects.
. . She caught an early morning flight out of Chicago's O'Hare airport and flew to Columbus, Ohio then, via a feeder airline, to Cambridge, where her mother greeted her. In awkward silence, Jean drove her to the Mother of Mercy hospital, then departed, leaving Caitlin alone at the hospital entrance. They, too, had grown apart.
. . Caitlin was introduced to Roy's doctor who took her aside and patiently explained how the devastating effects of the cancer had unmercifully claimed her father's body. He concluded by remarking that she had arrived just in time, that Roy would be lucky to make it through the night.
. . Caitlin entered the single-bed intensive care room with trepidation. As she glanced at the prostrate figure on the bed, she knew that she would never have recognized her father had they had passed on the street. Where there once existed an affable, expressive man with large protective hands and a mop of untamed brown hair, there now remained little more than an empty, defenseless husk of a stranger. The specter of death hovering nearby was palpable.. Caitlin slowly sat in the bedside chair, mesmerized by the chilling sight of a dying man. Her father lay unconscious, his tortured breathing came in irregular whimpers of anguish.
. . A nurse entered the room and asked Caitlin if there was anything she needed. What I need is a healthy father, thought Caitlin, but she shook her head and the nurse left quietly, leaving the door barely ajar.
. . Caitlin continued to stare at the stranger on the bed. This is a "death watch" thought Caitlin, then immediately chastised herself by the vulgarity of her expression.
. . She stifled a yawn, as she fought off the fatigue of her travels. It had been a long, exhausting day of quick decisions, irritating flight delays, and a continuous emotional turmoil that drained her strength. She could feel herself slipping into a state of lassitude and closed her eyes for a brief moment of rest.
. . Caitlin was momentarily startled as she sensed a slight movement in the room. She was shocked to see her dad was now staring at her with pleading eyes. He struggled to speak and Caitlin leaned forward to hear what he was saying.
. . "Kitten," he said, "I--I...knew...you'd ...come. Thank...you."
. . Kitten! It took Caitlin a moment to overcome her surprise at hearing him utter his once-favorite nickname for her, a nickname she had not heard since. Touched by the unexpected affection, Caitlin felt a misty veil begin to form in her eyes. Her father struggled to say something more and she again leaned forward to catch the barely audible words.
. . "Kitten...I love you."
. . His eyes then closed for the final time as he slipped away. Caitlin reached out for his frail hand. All of the pent up emotions that been denied her over the years now poured out in a fresh flow of tears.
. . She was still sobbing uncontrollably as the nurses gently undid her embrace of her father's body. One nurse then assisted the grieving woman to the small hospital chapel where she could be alone with her thoughts.