My father was admitted to the hospital in June 2008. The doctors said he needed a heart valve in order to live. He risked the surgery so that he might be around longer for his grandchildren. It didn’t work out so well: he was in a coma between life and death for six weeks. It was hard to see him so powerless.

My sisters hovered around him, so I focused on my mother. Practicing the principle of surrender made me available for others. My dad emerged from the coma completely paralyzed, but he still had his mind. My ability to express gratitude for his condition and for the care he received contributed to the acceptance of this hard reality for my whole family. I was able to be “part of.” I did my best to take the actions of love.

I was able to spend entire days with him, at times without talking much. Although I live and work quite far from my hometown, I did my best to call or travel to be with him. I stayed sober throughout the process.

Twenty weeks after the surgery, the family enforced his decision to not support his life with harsh treatments. His condition quickly worsened. I was notified by phone and flew back home.

I arrived late Sunday night. My sister picked me up and said “Hurry, he’s waiting for you.” I was able to spend a few hours with him that night, talking softly. We didn’t say much. He had already given me all he had to give. I only wanted to be there with him. What a blessing.

He eventually went to sleep. I spent the night by his side. The next morning he didn’t talk at all. He grew faint. He passed away in the afternoon, with all of us around him, his brothers and sisters included.

I thanked God that I was able to tell him how much I loved him and how much he had given me. We had been very close. We shared hobbies, travels, and interests. I learned later from my mother how much my father admired my work. I didn’t know how much until then. The tears I have shed for him are a unique mix of pain and joy. Writing about this is healing; I hope it helps others.

The knowledge that my father loved me so much that he would wait for me before “leaving” shows me how much my Higher Power loves me. He knows more about me than my earthly father knew, and He brought me back to my father with perfect timing.

I had shared “The Solution” with him before his disease and surgery. Conflicts between my mother and father were frequent. I had suggested, “It’s not a question of knowing who is right, the verdict is not going to be given until much later anyway.” He liked that, and he told me before dying that this had worked well for him in surrendering arguments. He knew my struggles and he saw how The Solution had worked in my own life.

He was a spiritual man and loved a lot. He also admired the idea of perseverance. He had survived the brain stroke completely paralyzed but lucid for two months. Yet he never raised his voice or rolled his eyes. He kept his sense of humor and expressed his gratitude to all around him. He had surrendered to his complete powerlessness. I like to think that he was using the tool we had shared years before in the area of gratitude. I also know that it was not of my own making, but my Higher Power was at work.

I was able to participate in the celebration of his life. As the only son, I was able to claim for myself the time and space to honor him. The funeral process was serene and bright. I had the emotional clarity to share the hope and strength that his way of life had given me: talent, compassion, and passion, to name just a few. I’m blessed that my father had taken so many actions of love.

I prayed a lot that he would find his final destination. I trust that he has. Today, I grieve him. I also hear him calling me when I arrive home by myself, dealing with life on life’s terms. He says “Bonjour Maw-teen.”

His spirit lives within me, and has a calming effect on me. I take this new presence as part of his Higher Power available to me. It actually closes the loop with the idea I had of a Higher Power when I first entered the fellowship: the power of our ancestors looking after us.

The voice I hear today is one of total acceptance and love. He is my father. How about my mother? When I am not just simply loving her, I am “working” with her and practicing the principles I have learned in this program.

I am convinced that this experience would have been far different had I not been sober. I am also certain that my sobriety helped others. That is a far better “bottom line” than the other option.

Thy will, not mine, be done.