The Last Day Of Dwight Lazar
By: Vuyo Ngcakani
Tags: Grandson, Flash Fiction, Fatherhood, Old Age, Grandpa

The Last Day Of Dwight Lazar

Photo by Johnny Cohen on Unsplash

Sixty-four-year-old Dwight Lazar winced. One or maybe more of his chest muscles spasmed as he drove to his daughter’s house for Toby’s, his grandson’s third birthday. He veered out of his lane briefly as he fought to catch his breath. By the time he regained control he had to then slam on his brakes as the traffic light turned red. The pain subsided as he took some deep breaths and he arrived at his destination without further incidents.

He was concerned, though. This was the second spasm in as many days and they were affecting his breathing. Maybe he was overdoing it. He still lived in his own home and did his own lawnmowing and snow shoveling. He had never married. His daughter, Lillian had been the result of a fling he had thirty years ago. He’s going to have to find a local teenager to take over the heavy loads.

“Grandpa!”

Music to his ears.

Toby sprinted to his favourite grandpa who lifted him off his feet and twirled him around.

The pain felt like a lightning bolt had struck his sternum and radiated to all his limbs. As he fell to the gravel driveway, he tried to lessen the impact on Toby by falling on his back with Toby on top. If any stones dug into him, Dwight never felt them. He stared up into the atmosphere unable to move.

He must have screamed because Lillian rushed out. Or maybe it was because she heard Toby wailing. After a quick check on her son, she turned her attention to her Dad. She didn’t like what she saw.

“Darnell, call 911!” she shrieked to her husband.

Dwight struggled to breathe. His lungs captured some air and then it was like the airways were plugged. This intermittent breathing persisted. His eyes saucered as fear took over. He took his daughter’s hand as the ambulance sounded in the distance, his name frantically coming from her lips.

“Daddy! Daddy!

The paramedics arrived and administered oxygen. The air filled his lungs and Dwight started feeling better. It wasn’t long before his breathing returned to normal and the pain subsided. Against the advice of the paramedics and his daughter’s insistence, he refused to be transported to the hospital. That he had had prior bouts of muscle spasms remained undivulged.

It was when they were singing ‘happy birthday’ that Dwight found himself running out of breath after every line.

Happy birthday to you(deep breath)

Happy birthday to you(deep breath)

There was no pain but through the cake-eating and presents-opening, he started to feel more and more lethargic. When Toby jumped on his lap to give him a thank-you hug, it just about wiped him out and he could barely wrap his arms around his grandson.

Lillian noticed. “Dad, are you okay?”

“No, I’m not, my daughter. Take me to the hospital.”

The idea that he couldn’t hug Toby frightened him. The reality of his mortality flashed before him and the thought of missing out on being a grandpa to more kids was horrifying. He was only 64-years-old for crying out loud.

Darnell was left to continue with the birthday party. Thankfully, the hospital was only 10 minutes away and Lillian made it in seven. She dashed into the emergency area and returned with an orderly and a wheelchair. They helped Dwight settle into it and wheeled him into the triage area where they were told to wait and someone will be over to tell them what to do next.

“I hate hospitals,” said Lillian.

Dwight smiled sheepishly. He needed to rest so he closed his eyes. His mouth hung open as he sucked back as much air as he could. He could feel his heart slow its thudding. He tried to say something to his daughter but she was looking toward the nurses’ station to see if they were next. He couldn’t lift his hands to tap her arm.

His heart stopped. His lungs failed. His head fell and his left arm hung low.

Lillian was thankful that her dad had fallen asleep. At least he looked peaceful. She lifted the fallen arm to place it on his lap but it fell again. She repeated the action with the same result.

“Dad?”

No answer. No movement.

“Daddy?”

Dwight was thankful that “Daddy” was the last word he heard because that was what he was most proud of in his life. He wished that he could have responded. He would have thanked Lillian for allowing him to be part of her life and for making him the happiest man on earth.

And when Toby says that Grandpa told him something, believe him. He plans on showing up now and then.