I lost my father this week. It has been roughly a decade since he was diagnosed with Lymphoma, he managed to fight that off after a long battle and treatments, but when he was diagnosed with leukemia back in February, the outcome was clear...he would not make it. He took the only option he had left, regular blood transfusions...and lots of care. I don't have the strength my Mom has. Where she found the energy to work full time, and take care of my sick father is beyond me. I tried to help when I could...but I truly pale in comparison. Within the last two months, she finally had to stop working to stay home and care for him full time, an oxygen machine was purchased...that towards the end he wore at all times...blood transfusions were bi=weekly, and even then weren't helping.
Two weeks ago, we found out he had pneumonia in his left lung. He opted to stay at home, rather than go to the hospital. In less than a week, he was admitted to the hospital. On Monday, December 11th...my Dad left the home where I grew up for the last time. I spent that night with him and didn't sleep a wink all night. His lungs were deteriorating, and antibiotics just weren't helping. I did my best to make him comfortable...all night, I watched helplessly as he tried to catch his breath. It was so horrible to see him like this...so afraid, so much pain. The nurses did their best to keep him comfortable. His breathing trouble subsided slightly by the morning, and I fed him his breakfast. I stayed until 11am that morning,it was now tuesday the 12th. My Mom arrived and I came back to town to get some sleep. Tuesday night, I came back for a few more hours. He wasn't conscious when I returned...he did open his eyes a few times, but for the most part, he wasn't there. I opted to come back the next morning and stay with him the whole day.
Wednesday morning, I arrived at 11am just as the nurses where cleaning him up. They said they would just be a few minutes. So Mary and I went to the family room and talked with my Aunt for twenty minutes. For some reason, I felt the need to go back to the room. When I got back, something looked so wrong with my Dad...his eyes were open. For a moment I thought he was awake, but then I realized he was dying. I grabbed his right hand and held onto it tightly, I cradled his head in my other hand. I hope to God he knew I was there. I looked into his eyes, and told him it was alright...just let go...we would be safe, and that it was okay for him to go. He struggled one final breath, and was gone. Writing this now, I can still feel myself ripping apart on the insides. I have never come face to face with anything like this in my entire life. I'm so heartbroken right now. My Dad is gone, but for what it's worth...I'm so happy to have been there to help him leave. I just hope with all my might that he knew I was there...and that he wasn't scared. He deserved so much better than all of this shit he put up with. He suffered so much, and worried so hard about how we would be when he was gone.
I know we'll be alright, but I miss my Dad so much already. My last night spent with him...he was more concerned about me getting sleep...than he was with his struggle to breath. I know he did bad things in the past, but he loved me so much...and I'm going to miss that...God I miss it right now. We buried him this morning at 12pm. I'll never speak to him again, or hug him again.
I love him so much. I miss him so much.
I'm not the same person that I was on Monday...I don't know what will come next.
Goodbye Dad. I love you with all my heart, and I'll never forget you.
Friday, December 15, 2006
Thursday, December 07, 2006
One of those little moments.
Frig, I can't make the tears stop right now, but crying feels good...so I really just need to let it flow.
I just got caught in one of those moments where the good memories of my father are hitting me rather hard. It's going to be so hard to say goodbye when he goes. It feels good to write about this. Mary is at the movies, I don't really want to call anyone...blathering like an idiot...so this is fine. Little details of life come back to us at times like this, I've nursed enough people through it...but never really experienced it first hand myself. Yes, I have experienced friends dying...but it's a very different experience. Their actions didn't shape you, parts of them haven't been imprinted on you since you were an infant. There is just so much fabric that begins to unravel. I'm looking back and remembering how he was, it's so hard to see him suffer like this, in pain and discomfort. It's so hard to watch a parent suffer, no matter what bad things they did in the past. They're still human...they still love you...God, how they unconditionally love you. It's such a wake up call, it's so life affirming. Is there anything more pure than a parents love?
I don't know...
My dad loved to save his spare change. I've never known anyone able to squirrel away change like he could. Quarters, dimes, nickels, loonies...you name it. While I was out visiting today, he gave me two containers full of change and as I was leaving he said, "This will probably be one of the last times that I'll be giving you change." We both realize he has very little time left, maybe less than we both think. Both my mom and I were hoping that he would be well enough to enjoy one last Christmas with us, but it's hard to say at this stage. He has pneumonia in one lung...as if he wasn't weak enough already. It's impossible to tell if he will be around from one day to the next. He wants to stay at home as long as possible, he knows if he goes to the hospital that he likely isn't coming back. I'm torn...I don't want him to go, but I don't want him to suffer like this anymore.
Right now, it makes me cry to remember all the times he and I used to sit on the floor together counting the change he had collected. It was such a simple exercise, but I enjoyed it. They're good memories...fuck the bad ones, just FUCK them! I don't want them, they have no place in my mind anymore. Those memories were a wall between me and my parents. Why the hell do we cling to those few bad memories when there are so many good ones? It has taken me until now to break these walls down, and truly embrace my parents as friends again...not just parents. I don't know why the wall had to go up..I wish it hadn't..I know it was due to the bad things that happened, but what a waste of years. They were like close friends to me at one point...we really connected. Seeing my Mom's face light up is a gift, and I should aim to make it happen more often. I'm just glad that I was finally able to knock that wall down and work on being friends with them again. They need me, I need them. I know I can always trust them to be there for me, even long after they're gone. It's sad to think they'll both be gone someday, but I just hope there is happiness for the rest of their journey on this world.
I feel better, heh, the tears are drying up a bit.
I think I'm done.
I just got caught in one of those moments where the good memories of my father are hitting me rather hard. It's going to be so hard to say goodbye when he goes. It feels good to write about this. Mary is at the movies, I don't really want to call anyone...blathering like an idiot...so this is fine. Little details of life come back to us at times like this, I've nursed enough people through it...but never really experienced it first hand myself. Yes, I have experienced friends dying...but it's a very different experience. Their actions didn't shape you, parts of them haven't been imprinted on you since you were an infant. There is just so much fabric that begins to unravel. I'm looking back and remembering how he was, it's so hard to see him suffer like this, in pain and discomfort. It's so hard to watch a parent suffer, no matter what bad things they did in the past. They're still human...they still love you...God, how they unconditionally love you. It's such a wake up call, it's so life affirming. Is there anything more pure than a parents love?
I don't know...
My dad loved to save his spare change. I've never known anyone able to squirrel away change like he could. Quarters, dimes, nickels, loonies...you name it. While I was out visiting today, he gave me two containers full of change and as I was leaving he said, "This will probably be one of the last times that I'll be giving you change." We both realize he has very little time left, maybe less than we both think. Both my mom and I were hoping that he would be well enough to enjoy one last Christmas with us, but it's hard to say at this stage. He has pneumonia in one lung...as if he wasn't weak enough already. It's impossible to tell if he will be around from one day to the next. He wants to stay at home as long as possible, he knows if he goes to the hospital that he likely isn't coming back. I'm torn...I don't want him to go, but I don't want him to suffer like this anymore.
Right now, it makes me cry to remember all the times he and I used to sit on the floor together counting the change he had collected. It was such a simple exercise, but I enjoyed it. They're good memories...fuck the bad ones, just FUCK them! I don't want them, they have no place in my mind anymore. Those memories were a wall between me and my parents. Why the hell do we cling to those few bad memories when there are so many good ones? It has taken me until now to break these walls down, and truly embrace my parents as friends again...not just parents. I don't know why the wall had to go up..I wish it hadn't..I know it was due to the bad things that happened, but what a waste of years. They were like close friends to me at one point...we really connected. Seeing my Mom's face light up is a gift, and I should aim to make it happen more often. I'm just glad that I was finally able to knock that wall down and work on being friends with them again. They need me, I need them. I know I can always trust them to be there for me, even long after they're gone. It's sad to think they'll both be gone someday, but I just hope there is happiness for the rest of their journey on this world.
I feel better, heh, the tears are drying up a bit.
I think I'm done.
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