Now I lay me down to sleep in Vulnerability

"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep.  If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.  Amen."

This was the prayer I was taught as a kid to pray before bed every night.  I haven't used it in probably 25 years or so now, but it seems fitting right now.

I'm writing briefly again, although dad is still alive.  For now.

We got the message that dad's been given no more than 48hrs now, so I had to jump on a train to Redbank and meet my brother there at 11:10pm, and we drove out to see him, my mother and my sister, arriving just after 1am.

It's a strange feeling being in the same room as my dad, knowing he's taking his final breaths.  He was in sudden extreme pain earlier in the day, and it took far too long to get him the morphein he needed.

Thankfully, when I saw him, he seemed much more at peace.  Mum had pushed the other bed in the room against his and was cuddling him.  My sister had been there since 10am, so she's really doing overtime on her 8hr shift with my dad today.

My sister suggested us sharing our earliest memories of dad, so we had a few laughs doing that.  Dad's breathing changed a few times.  My older brother thinks it sounds more relaxed.  I would have hated to have seen him earlier today in so much pain.  My sister had been in tears.

It's 3:30am and Im now back at the house, writing this.  My mum, brother and sister stayed there.  Aunty Vicki is here at the house with me, and she'll head up before I do again in the morning.  I don't expect dad will still be with us when I awaken, but who knows.  Mum said to me we could be waiting another day or so yet, for all we know.  I figure I may as well try and get some sleep in an actual bed and not a chair, so I said my final goodbyes to my dad, tucked his feet into the blanket and rubbed his shoulder, wishing him goodbye.

I've been and on and off mess tbh.  I'm pretty damn tired but unsure how much of a restful sleep I'll get.  Unfortunately it won't be a dream when I wake.