For My Father: Losing A Parent During A Global Pandemic...On The Other Side Of The World.
During the weeks leading up to my fatherâs death, I searched endlessly for articles or blog entries on losing a parent during a global pandemic when living abroad. I never found anything. I was just looking for that connection to help me cope, or having something to help me understand what I was supposed to feel.
I feel that I needed to write this blog entry to find my way to come to terms with the sadness, the loneliness and the goodbye that I never had.
I am currently supposed to be in Dalat. It was my reward for the constant hard work from teaching without a break, the year I have been through and the sleep deprivation I have endlessly experienced. However, Ho Chi Minh City is currently on lockdown and it isnât safe to travel. I decided to stay in HCMC over the TĂȘt holiday, without getting that break we all so rightly deserved. Dalat was for my time to think, be alone, grieve some more and come to terms with everything that has happened in this past year.
In the weeks leading up to my fatherâs death, I slowly watched him deteriorate via FaceTime. Moving in and out of consciousness, when just a few weeks before he was chatting and laughing. He would always cry when he saw Yuki, he would always cry when he had to say goodbye to me. He would also cry and ask: âwhen will all this end?â (Meaning Covid).
My father had cancer. He had survived it before, but when it returned there was nothing more that they could do. Itâs not quick...itâs slow. It takes a long time, he deteriorated, could no longer open his eyes or even take a drink.
I think it was about two weeks before my father passed that I couldnât watch him anymore on FaceTime. My sister would hold the phone and I would say something, I could sometimes hear a grunt but not much else towards the end.
People said, âoh why are you here? Why donât you go home?â People live in a fantasy world. The stress of getting Covid tests, never mind the costs of flights, not knowing when I could get a return and the cost of a return flight too. The cost of quarantine when eventually re-entering Vietnam, having no pay for months possibly, giving up Yuki for months, giving up my apartment...where does all my stuff go? It isnât that simple anymore, not during Covid times. I really wished people would stop and think before they said âoh, canât you go home?â It isnât an option for everyone.
So as the guilt and loneliness starts to sneak in...you find out who your friends are. Those that arenât supportive or donât just send a little message: âare you ok?â But then you have those friends that buy you flowers and a journal, or that friend who lives on the other side of the world and phones you every single day.
I worked all the way up to my fatherâs death. Itâs different in Asia to the western world, I feel that you are just supposed to get on with it. Donât expect co-workers to ask you how you are, or if you are managing, it wonât happen. I worked on the day my father was actually dying. I woke up on the Saturday morning to missed calls and found out he had passed.
I got three days compassionate leave and I was back in work. During those three days, I was extremely ill. Weak, shivering, aching. I tried to eat. I spent my days watching film after film. I would wake up in my sleep from crying. This was the toughest time for me, I felt completely alone.
My fatherâs funeral wasnât until two weeks later, after Christmas. I couldnât even get closure from it until he got put to rest. I watched his funeral via FaceTime on my phone, I couldnât hear what the vicar was saying but I could hear the music being played. It was a short funeral but I got nothing from it...I just felt empty. The next morning I had a parentâs meeting at a school. Life goes on here.
My fatherâs last few months was spent in my parents bedroom. He could never leave because of Covid. He never got to see outside again, to walk around his garden or go for a ride in his car. He was a prisoner in his own home. This silent war has put us through experiences we have all never thought possible - boredom, depression, loneliness, anxiety and disconnection. This silent war has took away the dignity from those dying, it has taken away rights to how they wish to spend their last moments. This silent war has taken away life itself.
This is what itâs like to lose your parent during a pandemic on the other side of the world. No one tells you about the sleep deprivation, the waking up in the night and not being able to get back to sleep. The difficulty when trying to eat or being able to enjoy yourself. I had to hold back the tears as I would try to teach. Death is always hard but this was tough, really tough. I will always think of the positive times with my father but I will always have missed out on that grieving process with family. I donât expect anyone to read this but if it helps me heal then that is all that matters.
Thank you for reading, stay safe.