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Found 69 results

  1. It's been 8 months since my dad suddenly passed away. He had hip surgery and DVT Pulmonary Embolism is what took his life. He was only 63... My parents were divorced when I was 8, and my father took care of my brother and I our entire lives. It was all because of him. I tried so hard to keep working after he passed away in August 2016. I took a week off and went back full time. I only lasted until the beginning of December, thats when I snapped and immediately quit. I took less than 3 months off, I had just started a new job a few weeks ago. Now my god mothers mother passed away (been family friends since before I was born) and her viewing was on my birthday. I was already upset because it's my first birthday without my dad who I spent it with every year the past 22 years, and now I have to go to viewing. It caused me to have a mental breakdown and I quit again. I can't seem to hold a job now, I'm not mentally stable. My husband keeps telling me its okay and that I need time... and he is very supportive of me. But I can't help but feel like such a piece of **** or a disappointment to everyone. I have always worked since I was 14. I always worked and went to school and now I can't seem to hold on to a job without making a fool of myself and leaving. My last job I just no called no showed. I have never had this behavior in my life. I can't help but to feel so helpless. I don't know what I'm even trying to ask. All I know is I'm not happy and I feel like I'm making it so hard are everyone especially my husband. I'm just so sad though, I cry out to him daily. I just don't know what I'm doing anymore. Can you guys share what happened after your parent passed?
  2. it was in 2011 that i lost my father at 17 , 5 days before my birthday and on my parents wedding anniversary. he left behind two children and a wife who was 8 months pregnant. my little brother is 5 now and will never know what a great man his father was. i still am extremely plagued by the grief. now that it has been almost 6 years , i feel like family and friends no longer care that my dad is not around and that everyone is moving on with their lives. no one talks about him, or does celebration of life at his anniversarys or birthdays. its hurt me to know that such an important person in my life is gone and that no one else seems to be feeling the pain i am. i am afraid to move on with my life because i don't want him to not be apart of my future. im having a hard time i guess coping with the grief, and feel like i don't really have anyone to talk to about this fact. I guess im looking for people with similar experiences or thoughts/suggestions on how to deal with this? i do have a partner , but he has both of his parents and does not really seem interested in discussing anything around the death of my father.
  3. I've never done this before but it was recommended by some friends to try and find some people online who understand. Growing up I had an amazing life, both parents always around, I was always daddy's little girl and Moms little angel. At 13 my parents got a divorce. My dad got really depressed and started using drugs. We always stayed in touch and hung out pretty often, even when things got rough. My mother and I were living house to house for about a year. We found a nice apartment and lived there for 5 years. When i was 18 on 5/8/2015 I lost my father he was 45. It was a very rough 2 months for my family and I. He went into the hospital for shortness of breath. The next night i get a call saying he went into cardiac arrest, after that in was in an induced coma for 2 months. They would wake him up once a day for me to be able to visit with him, He couldn't talk due to the tube in this throat but he was still there. He had multiple surgeries all of which were my choice (since i was 18 and the oldest child i was next of kin) and after his last surgery he lost all function of his brain. It was my decision to let him go. I know he wouldn't have wanted to be like that. It's almost been 2 years since that's happened and i still think about it everyday. I don't think I will ever make it through that. At age 20 on 2/24/2017 I lost my mother she was 50. In December she went into the ER because she wasn't feeling to well and the doctor had told us she had stage 4 breast cancer. I was completely destroyed. My mom was the healthiest woman ever, didn't smoke, didn't drink, ate healthy, took all her vitamins. She started chemo not to long after that, after her 3rd session she had come home and called me, she said she wasn't feeling to good and of course we all thought it was just the chemo. The next afternoon my 15 year old brother came home from school and called me saying he couldn't wake her up. He called 911 and we all met at the hospital, They pulled us into the "family room" and i knew at that point that this couldn't be good. The cancer had made its way into her stomach, she bleed out so much that her heart completely stopped. My mom was my best friend, my person to run too. We had a very close relationship from beginning to end. We were there for each other in the hardest of times. Now I am a 20 year old, with no parents, a 15 year old brother and no support. I am completely lost and broken.. I feel like giving up myself but i can't do that my brother needs me right now and i can't even hold myself together.
  4. The other day, my dad suddenly passed away. On Friday at around 1:30 in the morning I was woken up by my mom. She told me not to freak out, and that my dad has been in a car accident. I immediately freaked out and started sobbing. I couldn't control it, but my sisters were sleeping in the other room. I eventually calmed down and my mom told me that she was going to the hospital. After she left, I tried to sleep. I couldn't. I stayed up the rest of the night texting my mom to get as much information as I could. She said that his brain was okay and that he could move his arms and legs. He did, however, have internal bleeding. He was taken into surgery and died, because his heart stopped. I had fallen asleep for an hour, because I thought that he would get through this. I thought he would get out of surgery and he would come home. My mom called me from downstairs, waking me up, and said that she wanted to see me. I walked downstairs and before I could get to the bottom, I saw boots that resembled my dad's. I immediately got excited and stepped down a few more only to see that it was my uncle. I walked into the other room where my mom was. I heard my sisters crying, but I thought it was because they were told he was in an accident. Then my mom looked at me and whispered, "Daddy didn't make it." At first I refused to believe her and I ran back upstairs sobbing. It didn't seem real. That whole day was pretty bad. I would go from sobbing to being fine, back to sobbing. It's still like that today. Every time I see something of his or something that reminds me of him, I start crying. I think that the main thing that bothers me is that his death wasn't fast. He was drunk and speeding. He wasn't wearing a seatbelt. He missed a curve and ran into a ditch and the car flipped 7 times. He was ejected from the seat and broke some ribs, his pelvis, neck, and severed his spine. He was still conscious when the police found him an estimated 45 minutes after the accident. They put him under anesthesia in case they had to do emergency surgery. I believe that he would have lived if he was found sooner. My last words to him were, "Get out of my room." He was drunk and yelling at me. I didn't see him after that. My dad has been an alcoholic his whole life. It sucks, but he was an amazing person when he wasn't drunk. He was selfless. He did anything he could to help any and everyone. I loved him so much. I'm only 17. The funeral was today, but the viewing was on my birthday. When I saw him for the first time, I wanted to explode. It took everything I had to not drop to the floor and scream. He was drained of his usual red tint. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that he wasn't alive. I stared at him for 20 minutes expecting him to just get up and tell me it would be okay. I calmed down by convincing myself that he was at peace. My dad was only 46. He had a good 40 or so years left, but that was cut short. I'm having trouble coping with this whole thing. I don't know when the crying will stop. I haven't felt genuinely happy at all since before it happened. I've had a constant feeling in my chest since I heard the news. It feels like a weight is sitting on my heart. I don't feel like eating, drinking, leaving my house, or anything. I just want to sleep, because sleeping is the only time I'm not thinking about it. I constantly feel like crying. When I'm not, I'm angry. I feel like there is a void that can never be filled. My uncles will probably step up and be a father figure to me and my sisters, but it won't be the same. I have felt alone since it happened. I've been surrounded by friends and family since this whole thing began, but I've felt so alone. I've tried talking about how I feel with people, but it hasn't helped. Every time I think about how much of a good person he was and how he impacted my life, I cry even harder because he didn't deserve what happened to him. I feel like my whole world has collapsed around me. I haven't stopped crying since the start. I don't know what to do. I'm trying to accept God into my life. I had my doubts before, but I think my faith will be my only solace.
  5. I dropped my Dad off at the airport in early January. The last time I ever saw him was waving goodbye before he went into the terminal. A few days later, we got the call that he had fallen ill while abroad and passed away. The first few works despite being sad, I would laugh or smile occasionally or appear nonchalant. I realized it was because it still feels like he's alive, just out on vacation still. It still feels like I'm going to go back and pick him up from his return flight on February 12th. Even typing this right now I can't believe he's not coming back. I can't wrap my head around it. I saw a picture of his dead body, I saw him being buried, but it feels like I imagined it or it was all a bad dream. How can he just not exist anymore? Am I really never going to talk to him again? Someone at work mentioned that they needed a ride to the airport and it felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. I dropped a man off at an airport who I won't ever be able to go pick up again. Some of this belongings got sent back to our house last week. Seeing his tangible possessions suddenly made this feel real, and surreal at the same time. Ever since this shift in my reality, my mood has gotten worse. My mom saw them and held them against her chest and wailed. She said that his things came back, but the person won't. I can't even look at his belongings. They look so empty and irrelevant now, outliving him. When I was going through his paperwork yesterday I found an envelope about an upcoming doctor's appointment of his. He wrote a reminder to himself before the trip. On the envelope in his handwriting it read "DO THIS WHEN I GET BACK." It kills me that he couldn't have known. None of us knew he wouldn't be coming back. I am 24 and I thought I would have my Dad with me for so much longer. I wanted him to be here for my wedding one day. The sadness is only really hitting me now. It's enveloping me from all sides. I do not want to go on. How much time will pass before my brain understands that he won't come walking back through our door again?
  6. Hi - I'm new here and so glad that I found this forum. My father passed in 2004 at age 60 from lung cancer. He and I were very close. I still miss him dearly. My mother passed away January 1, 2016. My mother's passing was not expected. Her health was failing, rapidly in the last month but there was always hope mostly because no one really knew what was going on. I was long distance (7 hour drive away) with two small children to take care of (now 5 and 7). I am an only child. I feel like I could have done so much more for my mother. I often have feelings of guilt about this. I was sometimes unkind to her out of frustration. I have a tendency to get angry when I'm upset and/or feel out of control. I also feel guilty because, at the time of her death, I felt a bit of relief. I feel like I haven't really grieved her. After the week of the funeral - clearing out her apartment in a hurry, dealing with an unfriendly landlord, and financial issues - I went right back to "normal" life. Everyone where I live assumed I was strong, brave, whatever, and didn't really support me. I have felt very alone but sort of tucked that away. Over the last two months, I've developed intense anxiety.I started medication that sometimes works, sometimes doesn't. I constantly feel like my life is about to fall apart. I have stressors that are real and some that are my own invention. For instance, I can feel my heart rate go up and have my stomach get upset just trying to figure out what to pack in my girls' lunchboxes in the morning. My spouse is tired of hearing about my anxieties. He tries to be supportive, just doesn't know how and does get exhausted hearing the same things over and over. I've only cried a couple of times. It came out of the blue and didn't last long. I'm wondering if anyone has experienced, is experiencing, the same and/or if anyone has advice to offer. My gratitude in advance for any feedback. Peace, Jess
  7. Hi Everyone, I am not the one to talk about things, but I think the time has come that I should- I don't feel like I can post things on facebook or twitter etc as I don't want my friends to think I just want attention- so perhaps this is the best way to do it to people who don't know me. My Mother had Motor Neurone Disease ( MND to people in UK or ALS To people in US) She was struggling with this for just under 2 years first she lost her voice which was very difficult for her and then some of her nerve were getting weaker, I won't go into too much detail as this is a horrendous disease and very hard for people who have it and their families, it was very hard watching her go through this, but she always kept her smile and gave me the thumbs up. She pretty much had her mobility until the end.. she passed away September 2014. My father was her main carer although she was still pretty independent he was able to go out to work a couple days a week, the only health condition he had was diabetes but this was under control. He died less then two months after Mum passed away...I moved in with him to spend time with him after Mum passed away, he came back from shopping one day but the shopping on the table and then went to his office to do some computer work, I heard a loud noise .. like a bang or fall. I then called out "Dad" no response so I went to have a look, he was on the floor eyes closes having a heart attack...called ambulance they couldn't resuscitate him so kept trying along the ambulance ride, still kept trying when we arrived, then after around 40minutes declared him dead ( I was there for this whole time period) My sister lives in Borneo Malaysia ( as did I before mum passed but I managed to get back before she passed away ) I called her to tell her Dad had died.. BIG shock out of the blue. Hung up spent more time with dad to try say goodbye, a nurse came in check his pulse and felt one.. brought everyone in got his heart going and put him on a ventilator.. I called my sister again to say he was back. She flew over as fast as she could 2 days later. Dad was in coma for 5 days they did some tests and decided they wanted to switch the Machines off. So Friday the 28th November my Dad passed away- his birthday Month and less then 2 months after my Mum, I became an orphan at the age of 29. Of course I am devastated but I also understand how lucky my sister and I were to have such loving parents, for as many years possible. I felt what if? what if I new my first aid better, what if I could have ran to dad faster realised he fell, what if I didn't panic.. he could still be alive. I'm sorry to have told you most of my storey and I don't know what I expect back-but right now it has been 2 years I still feel numb, I feel like I'm in a dream world, I feel Mad, I feel bitter, of course I try not to show this to people but I feel this inside. I put on a brave face and try to carry on with life. I watch movies with weddings, people having kids, their Mum's and Dads with them, I feel jealously I feel pain because I will never have this. My sister was so lucky to have my dad walk her down the isle at her wedding, her kids met their Grandparents. I wish I could have this, but I can't. Any way I have so much to say .. And I Would like to talk to people that feel the same, have had the same experience as me. My sister is older then me but she was weaker then me at the time of our devastation and I have always tried to stay strong for her, I just can't tell her my deepest feelings about this.
  8. Hi!! I'm a 17 year old just letting it all out. I could use some advice. It's about to be a year and a month since my dad passed away and I just can'tcope with it, or I guess I don't want to accept the fact that he is gone. My mom wants to get married soon and that really saddens me and makes me angry because I feel like we( my sibbilings and I) need time, I really don't want her to get married this soon, she just met the guy and he's a total stranger to us, and the only thing she does is call us selfish because we don't want her to get married. I really don't know what to do, this few weeks I've been feeling really down, and crying for my dad a lot .. It's just SO hard, life is harder without him. Ps: I'm sorry this is all over the place, and it probably makes no sense. Excuse me is this is not well written, English isn't my first lenguage, but for some reason I wouldn't have been able to write this down ( or express myself, should I say?) in Spanish.
  9. I've never really posted on any forums about something so personal. (Sorry if this is incomprehensible, it turned into venting about my feelings) Before Christmas, I found my father lying dead in the bathroom in the flat where I grew up during my teenage years. For days I was so sure that I was never going to stop seeing that image when i closed my eyes, but sure enough I manage to move on day by day. He was my last living parent, my mother committed suicide when I was a baby, and I knew the day was coming because he was a seasonal binge drinking alcoholic who couldn't handle that his only daughter was growing up and becoming independent. But it had to be right then and not in a few years time. I thought that I could hold on to the anger to keep myself going, even if it's unhealthy. I'm in my final year of university. I was/am so angry that he would do this to me, at a time when I needed him the most. When i needed a shoulder to cry on about exams or post grad jobs or... anything. But the initial shock has worn out, and university has started again. I decided to stay on and not take a year out because i'm only 5-6 months away from getting a degree. I could get it over with and continue with my life. Delaying for ANOTHER year would mean another helping of student loan to pay back in the future, and extending my already long degree. I have days where I think "maybe I'm making the wrong choice" but most of the time I feel stubborn and so sure of myself that I can do this, because I have managed to overcome so much while only being 23 years old. I could have turned out so much worse, everyone kept implying before the day of the funeral. At the moment, I do feel confident (slightly) that I can continue on with my work at university and get my degree. And while I've read books and forums on grief, saying that i need to take it slow and take care of myself (which i am trying so very hard), i'm not sure how to... measure how I'm coping. It's not like there's a checklist. While it seems like my entire family knows about the death (and they do), very few people outside of that group know. Online friends know, my best friends (4 of them) know and my tutors at uni know... but that's it. I don't feel compelled to tell others, it's not exactly their business... but I feel as if it's the better thing to do. Like as if, nothing has changed to the world because my father died, and that only i feel the change. Which is obviously untrue as my uncles of course feel pain at the loss of their brother. I don't want to tell anyone really. When you grow up without a mum, you already have so much sympathy directed towards you... so much so that it can feel like you're being pitied... It's like I know that I'm currently fragile, but I don't want anyone to treat me as if they need to walk on eggshells (which actually... they do seeing as I'm prone to snap at people once a week). How can i possibly explain how it feels to have no living parents to someone who's always had a happy parent-child relationship. While it's only been a month, and the process of grief is a long and hard road, and initial feelings are obviously very complex and hard to explain (as can be seen by the above...), I just wondered how have other people coped in the initial first months? Did you start anything new to distract yourself? Did you find any books/anything helpful? I reached out to counseling agencies but.... long waiting lists combined with little money means waiting for a long time...
  10. It's been over a year since my dad put a gun to his head and sprayed his brains all over the house that I grew up in. I wasn't there when it happened, but just knowing that it happened that way haunts me constantly. My father had survived cancer, and fought with that for most of my life, so I thought he could survive anything. I never knew how sad he was, and now that I have been slapped in the face with it, I can't shake this terrible feeling. I feel like I wasn't a good enough daughter to him. Like i failed him because i thought he was stronger than he was. Like most little girls, I grew up idolizing my dad. Thinking of him as a super hero. A rock. An unstoppable force who was going to be by my side and in my life forever. But that was not the case. He left me in a blood-stained memory, and all I can do is think about him. Everything comes back to that phone call I got saying he was gone. There are so many days where I feel all I can do is cry and think about every moment I ever spent with him. Some days I'm just bitter and pissed off about everything and I want to punch everyone in the face who's having a better time than I am. I think about his death constantly. I dream about it. And I have become so dependent on substances to fade away the reality of everything, when I try not to drink or smoke, I end up feeling everything 100 times stronger. I just want to be numb. I want to stop feeling all of this. I feel too much at once, and I just hate how much this event has taken over my life. I loved my dad more than anything. He was always the one I could talk to when things weren't going well, or the first person I'd want to call when everything was going great! I have no one now, or at least it feels that way. I am not the same person I was before his suicide, and the people who love me might not love this new me. They might only love the old me, and she's never coming back. it was two weeks before my 25th birthday when it happened. Everything near his death date is tainted. My birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas. I don't want any of it anymore, because it will never be the same. All I ever wanted was for my father to see me succeed. And I'll never get that chance. He died knowing I was a loser. He died knowing I hadn't become anyone yet. That I hadn't done anything with my life. Well, I'm doing something now. At least, I'm trying. I'm trying to get my art out there. I'm trying to get my life in order. I've quit smoking for over 5 months now (and I want to break down every minute of every day and smoke, but I'm staying strong). He'll never get to see the woman I'm becoming. It tears me up inside when I realize everything he's missing. And then I just start to get angry, because there are so many times when I've wanted to give up on everything. But I haven't. I'm still here. I'm still here fighting with my own pain, and now on top of it, I'm fighting with his, too. It's so much weight for one set of shoulders to carry, but I'm doing my damnedest.
  11. My dad passed away 7 years ago, I was around 13. And I'm starting to forget. I'm starting to forget what his voice sounded like. What he looked like exactly, his laugh lines I used to remember, the way his rough hands felt holding mine when I needed comfort. I'm starting to forget his boisterous laugh. I'm starting to forget the simple moments. Not the moments, the big ones. I'm starting to forget his personality, like how he would react to certain situations now. I forget what my mom was like around him.. how happy she was. What my little brother was like around him,. The only man in his life he still needs guidance from. I'm starting to forget and all I want to do is keep these memories engrained in my mind forever. I'm starting to forget the pieces of me that were shaped because of him. The sound of him coming home from work. His favorite music, his favorite food. The way he said I love you.
  12. I have never posted on a site like this before but I am really struggling and looking for some help or advice. My biological father, who I never got the chance to meet, died by suicide over the summer. I found out about his passing only two weeks after it happened through a google search of his name since I wanted to try to find a picture of him to show my significant other. I always assumed I would be able to meet him and share my life with him someday, but the choice is no longer mine. He made the decision for me when he took his own life and I am very sad and angry about it. I don't know how I am supposed to grieve for someone I never got the chance to meet, much less how I am supposed to grieve for someone I never got the chance to meet who committed suicide. I feel as if I am grieving for him as a person as well as grieving for the relationship we never got to have and now never will.
  13. Hello, I am 25 years old, I have a twin sister and our father is 53 and an Air force veteran. Im not sure what all exactly to type here but if its okay ill just type everything that sums it up sorry if i ramble alot. I tried to shorten this the best way possible. my mom and dad are divorced and have been since me and my sis were 9 or 10, but after a few years of bad mouthing each other i guess, they buried the hatchet and became friends and remained friends. my mom remarried and my dad stayed single. When me and my sister were born my father was diagnosed with a brain tumor the size of a golf-ball and it would cause him to have grand mal seizures through the years. He was told he had six months to live at the time, but has survived for 25 years since his first diagnosis. He has had five brain operations in order to try and remove the tumor that kept growing back because of the 'roots'. When I was 17, in July of 2008 I believe he had his final surgery and all seemed well after I stayed at his house and watched him regain his speech and motor functions quite rapidly but one morning something was wrong, the night before he began to look like he had a black eye but he was seemingly fine until he didn't want to get out of bed the next morning, so me and my sis called his father who didn't live far away and he was able to rouse my dad and make him stand up. When he stood up he had a mass of blood swelling on the left side of his head that made it look as if he had been in a fight he had a black eye that was swollen shut and a lump on the side of his head at his temple. Since then everything has been a roller coaster of bull that was going downhill for him through the last few years. he has been in and out of care facilities like nursing homes or those places where the resident could go home for a few hours a day by shuttle bus where he could receive 24 hour care. Last year in the summertime 2015, my pawpaw asked me or my sis if we would mind staying at my dads house to help him and stuff and I didn't mind at all, so I went and all seemed fine until that evening around 2 am something woke me up he was out of bed trying to go to the bathroom and couldn't move. This went on for 3 days or so, back and fourth. I would have to wait until morning to get my pawpaw and a neighbor to help lift my dad but until then I would make a bed for him on the floor and try to make him comfortable, he wouldn't let me change his underwear or clean him up. I am 5ft 133 lbs and my dad is 5'8 ish 200 something lbs I couldn't lift him to save my life. He was getting progressively worse hour after hour and after a few back and fourth phone calls from my pawpaw to the VA a nurse came to visit and passed off my dad like everything was just peachy holding his hand asking if he was okay and speaking softly. The following day, two awesome nurses came over and did a full head to toe check on him but I was not allowed to be in the room, only his parents were, and I was told they had discovered that my dad, who had a biopsy a month or so before to check the tumor growth, the wound from the biopsy was covered with a medical patch that was to be changed daily by either a nurse or his mom who is elderly and it wasn't getting done every day - at the time I didnt know it was supposed to be every day- well it wasn't healing right, and left pencil sized hole in his head causing him to catch an infection that is eating his skull and tissue on the brain along with an ever growing tumor that is causing him to lose his basic functions he is now bed ridden and unable to open his eyes, eat or speak this took a few months and the last few days he became comatose. Me and my sister think very highly of our father, and mother. To see him like this breaks my heart into a million pieces, I feel so much regret that I didn't tell him I loved him enough or spent enough time with him since we chose to live with our mom when we were transitioning to high-school, I can still remember the look on his face when we were asked who we wanted to live with and I hesitated, my sister said "mom" and I wanted to stay with both because I love them the same and my dad was staring towards his feet and his expression is burned into my memory I wish I would have chosen him, maybe he would've been okay. A few days ago he lost consciousness and couldn't eat, drink or speak. My pawpaw mentioned to me and my sis a few months ago to 'prepare' but I can't handle this, seeing my once proud father laying in a bed wearing an adult diaper, squirming from time to time like a baby it just makes me wanna scream. i hate to compare him to that or belittle him by saying that, im not trying to. im so lost i don't know what to do i feel so helpless and empty, i love him so much and people keep telling me to pray and i and think, pray for what? your stupid comments? It makes me so angry. this isnt fair he's so nice and doesn't deserve this at all. i havent ever cried this hard in my life i think i got the neighbors attention by accident when i was outside with my dog. i often go outside late at night on the nights that my dog has a late night potty break, and i just stare at the sky and living in the country you can see the stars pretty well. I just wonder and look up, i feel empty when i do not sure if im hoping to find something or what. He doesn't have long. the doctor said maybe hours, or days. I got him to drink some water around 3 am since me and my mom stayed overnight to watch him, and this morning on March 17th 2016 I got him to eat some breakfast because he awoke from the fever and the comatose state but it's a small false sanctuary to see my dad open his eyes. his eyes are glazed over now when he did open them and im not sure he can't see anymore. his left eye *the side of the tumor* is sunken in or swollen shut I cant really tell but it looks to me like his eyes are lazy now probably from the pressure? i don't know. but me and my mom went home and swapped out with my sister who is staying there tonight so I can get some sleep my mom went back up there to help. I feel so weird and sad that im going to lose one of the few people I love. i cant really put into words how i feel, i cant imagine how my mom & sis feels or his parents. i would do almost anything just to hear one of his cheesy jokes again and to sit with him and watch any movie he likes, i hate the andy griffith show but id love to sit and watch it with him and hear him laugh at a punchline as if he hadn't heard it 100 times before, or to receive one of his bear hugs or to hear one of his ridiculous yawns as he crossed his arms for his afternoon nap because the race was too boring. I want him to get ready for a weekend fishing trip, he was always more of a fisherman than a hunter. He hated bow hunting, and believed in using every usable part of the animal when hunting or fishing, he was raised not to waste an animal that you kill. I want him to annoy me or my mom again out of fun, i just want him to be okay, i want my dad back, i want to see him walk through the door and give me his half grin. i want to go to lunch to that place where we ate classic burgers and fries, where they knew our table and names and drink choice, and hear him make his order of "a double cheeseburger with chilly, ketchup and mustard, and coleslaw." i can hear his voice saying it in that pattern. i already miss him so much it hurts
  14. My stepfather, who has served as my father for forty years, since I was thirteen, is now at the age 87, facing mortality. He has been an extraordinarily self-disciplined and productive individual his entire life, a scholar who has produced a book a year since his retirement at the age of 60, and an activist for many causes. Even until a few weeks ago he was flying off to conferences to give lectures, and was diving into our gym's swimming pool head first. But then two weeks ago TIA mini-strokes set in and he's been severely incapacitated. He is lucid and can function at a severely reduced pace now if he doesn't leave his apartment and barely engages in any physical activity, but we all know the inevitable is on its way soon. This is hard for me, for him, for my mother, and for everybody else.
  15. I found my dad passed away in his chair in our living room on Monday and the funeral is tomorrow. I'm 20 and he was 46. He wasn't in the best health, but not sick and we still don't know the cause. It still doesn't feel real and I keep having flashbacks to finding him, looking for a pulse, etc. and it's all a really upsetting process. I can't go in the living room, I blocked it off completely to avoid it and I can't sleep or eat. I almost threw up several times at the wake earlier. I don't know how to cope and I feel really horrible about all of it. I know it's probably not the best but I'm just blocking everything out to the point where I barely remember anything this week, and I'm really spacey and forgetful in general now. I'm not sure how to get through the funeral, having to acknowledge everything.
  16. Hello...I hope this will help me sort through my emotions a bit. A little over three weeks ago, my father passed away unexpectedly in his sleep due to a pulmonary embolism (a clot that stops the heart). I received the call that he was dead after a late night class. My heart is so broken. I love my dad so much. Everything reminds me of him. The grocery store, flowers, Chinese food, green Jeeps, lemonade, matzo ball soup.... I am at a loss for words. He loved me and my siblings so much and was so proud of us. He was an incredibly talented musician, and his funeral was attended by around 400 people who knew him for his talent with the saxophone and bass. He taught me to play guitar when I was six. I am so proud of my dad. I miss him. I would give anything to hear his voice. I know he is with me, but sometimes it is very difficult not to feel the absence more than this new kind of presence...it is all still so new and so shocking. All I know these days is that I love him with all of my heart, and I will miss him every single day. If anyone is interested in sharing stories of a lost loved one, or facts about them, I'd be happy to read them. I know telling stories about my Dad makes me feel better sometimes... Thanks for reading... -AG
  17. It's been just over two years now since my dad passed away and it hurts the same everyday that goes by, the pain doesn't get any easier and little things I see related to him just remind me of him so much and absolutely kills me inside. The biggest regret I have which burns me inside was that the last night before he passed away he waited up for me till 4am but I didn't come home till 6am because I had a stupid argument with my friend and after coming home I didn't kiss him good night as I used to then at 8am all I heard was my sister screaming that he wouldn't wake up and when I ran downstairs there he was asleep straight up on the sofa. He passed away a week and a half after my 20th birthday and I find it so hard to move on, I still get flashbacks of doing chest compressions on him, the ambulance responder using the electric machine which made my dad's body jump in the air, it all still haunts me and when I sit in that room I can picture my dad infront of me. The bubbly, happy man who always made me happy and never said no to me is no longer here and I always feel like it'd my fault for not being a better son and providing him with the pride he deserveed such as me getting my first job, passing my driving. I did all this after he passed away and it eats at me that he raised me for 20 years and just as I was getting to the point of being able to show him his hard work wasn't in vein and now he left me. Life doesn't feel the same anymore but I try my best to be there for my mum and younger sister. :’(
  18. Where to begin? My father passed away on September 29th. He and my mother had been married right at 45 years. They met when my mother was 19. She was from a small farm town, he from "the city." Throughout my life (I'm 39), my mother has made her house and her husband and kids (my brother and I) her entire life. When I was very young she had a couple of friends, but by the mid 80s she didn't talk to them often. My father kept her very well "protected." Anything she wanted done? He did it. Right away. They both worked very hard to make a living, neither of them having colleg educations. Mom stayed home when my brother and I were very young, but worked alongside my father at his furniture store in the late 80s, and since 1996, at another furniture store. I came out to my parents when I was 21. It almost killed them. I was given the choice to live at home and be "normal" or I could move out and do whatever I wanted. I was living at home at the time trying to finish college - and seeing someone - so the choice was clear. I dropped out of college for 2 years and moved out and learned to support myself. Mom cried for 2 weeks straight. I tried to make it as easy on my parents as I could - they requested I not tell a soul. So I didn't. Not even my own brother - nor anyone else I cared about. That of course put a wedge between most family and friends of mine - because I couldn't ever be truthful about myself to them. My parents and I continued to talk - it wasn't like I was banished from the family. It was just never spoken of. It did certainly though change our relationship greatly. My brother and I had "the conversation" around 2007 - he had known for a while, as I expected. We aren't close - I'm sure because I felt the need to distance myself from him since I couldn't talk about myself with him over the years. Still, we mostly get along. He had a child 2 years ago, and that made my Mom a very happy grandma. In 2007, I bought a house with my partner (we've now been together 13 years). That "forced" my parents to meet him. I'll give kudos to them - since then, they've been fairly nice about things. He comes to Christmas, Thanksgiving - and they have treated him mostly with respect. We all live in the same town - so I'd call them almost daily (as my mother has preferred since I left home to go to college). I'd stop by once a week/2 weeks. I haven't particularly enjoyed spending time with either of them. My mother is a demanding woman, and her point of view is the ONLY correct one to have. Just today she was over at my house rattling off a list of things I need to do - from landscaping to decorating (my tastes don't matter - hers do). She tends to be very self-centered, though she's oblivious to it. My father would cater to every whim - which is why I think she's so far removed from the real world (ironically, she's always insisted I was the one living in "fantasy land"). Five years ago, Mom came down with some intense nerve pain in her face - and my father has been taking her to all kinds of different doctors trying to figure out what's going on. I've inherited that job and continue to try to do my best to find her some relief. Mom's watched all but one of her mother and 6 siblings die (along with her father, who died when she was just 11). She has one brother left, who's on Oxygen - and lives about an hour away. They don't converse a whole lot. Dad had a heart attack in 1996 and scared Mom to death. He was a lifelong smoker and had a few stents keeping him alive. She came home from the grocery store on September 29th and found him unresponsive on the floor of the bathroom my brother and I shared growing up. Cardiac arrest. He as 65. I knew it was getting to be time to start worrying about these things (I've asked him numerous times in the last 2 years to talk about what would happen - would Mom be able to live alone? He insisted yes). In general, he (nor my mother) wanted to discuss it. Her immediate reaction was to do EVERYTHING. I mean everything. She had his entire estate wrapped up within a month (thankfully, he had a lot of his final details lined up for us). She also immediately put my brother and I to work. We were remodeling the bathroom my father died in literally the day after he died. I was in shock and couldn't make heads or tails of what was happening around me - and the last thing I wanted to do was paint, caulk, and install electrical fixtures. We ran endless errands. I was totally exhausted within 24 hours. This went on for months - down to picking up individual leaves out of her yard because she couldn't stand not having a perfectly groomed yard. In addition, she suddenly felt the need to tell just about everyone that I was gay. She outted me to most of my family and her neighbors - all without telling me. That alone would put me into shock - but try having that conversation with your aunt just a week after your father died. My brother quickly illustrated that he wasn't going to be much help. Granted, he has a kid - and I later found out he and his wife had a miscarriage just a month before my father passed away. He has a lot on his plate. So, I've tried to bare the brunt of taking care of Mom. My brother is pregnant again, and has little time for Mom - he sees her maybe once a week. So here I am, 6 months later. I go to her house every day after work, for about an hour (I have to get home to let my dog out). I'll easily spend 3 to 4 hours with her on weekends. If I don't go see her, she comes to visit me. My partner and I went under contract to buy a huge new house that needs a lot of work just weeks before Dad died. We moved in about a month after Dad's passing. In addition, I've had a job change in January. To say I'm spread thin is an understatement. Mom's alone now. She's terrified of living alone. She went through a month where she couldn't feel safe. I installed door alarms, flood lights - everything I could to try to make her feel more safe. She has a childhood-rooted fear of thunderstorms and will leave her house to go walk around Wal-Mart during one so she isn't alone. We live in NC, where storms pop up almost daily in the spring and summer. I've managed to be with her during most of them so far - but I can't keep that up much longer. She has really no family - no friends. Just my brother and I. We've encouraged her daily to go to church - volunteer - find a new job - go out to lunch with a neighbor. She wants none of that. She only wants my brother and myself. She's now lost her job due to her furniture store closing. She's also been diagnosed with chronic bronchitis, since she's a lifelong smoker too. I easily understand how sitting alone in her house is driving her crazy. But there doesn't seem to be an answer to any of this. I text her 5 times a day, call 3 times - stop by after work and on weekends. And she still feels like I don't spend remotely enough time with her. I want to be there for her - but I'd like my life back, please! I've invited her to stay the night with me - and she always refuses. I spent many nights at her house between September and December to try to make her feel more comfortable. That alone was a traumatic experience for me - I hadn't slept in their house in 20 years. She's gone to see a counselor 3 times now - but insists she isn't getting anything out of it. I tell her it takes a lot longer for that to work - but she doesn't hear a word I say (never has). I went to counseling myself a couple of times, trying to show her it was nothing to be afraid of. Mom's only asked me 4 times since my father's death if I'm dealing with things ok. It's almost as if she's oblivious to the fact that my brother and I are also trying to grieve. It's true - I've barely thought about my father since the day he died - because I've been too busy trying to make sure my mother's ok. I fear that's going to come back and bite me in the future. By Christmas the new house, my emotions, and my mother had got the best of me - people started telling me I wasn't looking good. I've tried to back off from Mom just a smudge. It's hard to go watch your Mom cry EVERY SINGLE DAY when I visit. She's loosened her reign on me just a touch - but no where near enough. I wish for things to go back to how they were - where I'd see her once a week or so. I don't think that will ever happen. I'm at wits end at this point, as I simply don't know what to do to make things change. To get just a sliver of my life back. My partner has been tremendous through all this - but he's lost all patience with my mother's antics and neediness. I know for certain I don't want to ever lose him. But, I also have always had this ridiculous drive to make my parents happy. I had hoped to move to California when I was young - but chose not to - so I could remain near my parents, in case anything ever happened. I literally gave up my hopes and dreams simply to make my mother happy. I feel like now is that point when she needs me most, which makes it almost impossible for me to try to detach myself from her. I've only had 3 social events in the last 6 months where I got to see friends - I'm too busy spending time with my mother. So, I welcome any comments or thoughts on how to best handle this situation. Any ideas on how to help my mother stand on her own - and for me to get a glimmer of hope that my life isn't over. I don't want to be doomed to be shackled to her until she dies (with her health issues, I can't imagine she's going to go as quickly as easily as my father did). I don't want her to visit me and do nothing but rattle off a list of what I'm doing wrong. I want to spend more than an hour with my partner on weekends. I want to know she's "ok" (not even happy, just ok!) more than anything else.
  19. Hi everyone, Not sure how to begin but I'll try to keep it short. I was very close to my dad, saw him every day and lived at home. He died suddenly of cancer, he was diagnosed and then died within a few days. It was horrific. From when he died I haven't had a sex drive. That was almost 2 years ago. Prior to his death I was extremely sexual. 3 months after my dad passed I started a relationship and until this day I've never felt how I did sexually. There's only what I can describe as a block. When I do make an effort with my partner it can take forever to orgasm and sometimes I even feel numb. I don't feel half of what I used to. I used to have such a high sex drive and think of sex daily. Now I don't think of it even once. Having sex is a chore. The odd thing is that I dream of sex a lot and in those dreams I have the familiar feelings I used to have every day. And the moment I wake up from the dream the feeling immediately vanishes and I'm me again. I have suffered from depression and been on medication for a few years or more, but prior to my dads death the tablets didn't affect me sexually at all. I think I have to stop complaining that it's the medication as I have tried 3 other antidepressants and been to my GP. Someone suggested trying counselling and I probably should but what I'm curious about is whether losing my dad has been the cause of what I'm feeling? If so why? And how is something like that overcome?? I feel so hopeless and low because to go from one extreme to another is very hard!
  20. I lost my father on December 23 and have had a hard time dealing with that, even though I knew it was coming. He was older and had many health issues. When he died i was devastated but ready to be devastated. On January 2, my aunt was hit by another vehicle while her vehicle was completely stopped. I am in shock and cannot even wrap my head around the fact that they are both gone. I'm so devastated and cannot stop crying. I'm going in an out of shock. And can't really believe that she is not longer there. How do I move on? How do I keep going? How can I get through the next few minutes? I'm so lost right now.
  21. I'm 23 years old. My dad is 53. His birthday is one day after mine. We look alike, share similar interests and hobbies. I've always been daddy's little girl. He has liver disease. End stages. They say that he won't be getting a liver. He's low priority. He sleeps all day. He become very confused often. He's precoma. We all know he doesn't have longer left. Everytime he goes into the emergency room he has already died a bit in my heart. The suffering and agony he is facing as am I. I'm told that I'm what makes him happy. That I'm all he cares about. That's a lot of weight on me. I feel alone. No one my age that I know relates to what I'm going through. Watching him suffer is so hard.
  22. I have a lot of favorite memories of my mom, whom I lost just over a year ago on October 4th. As mom and I have been together for some 52 years, I have a long list of memories...and just thought I would start off by mentioning a few. Sometimes when I get books from Amazon, I think back to a long time ago when I was a tot. Mom was already ordering books for me, most of which were from Dr. Seuss, and I always used to enjoy opening up the boxes and flipping through the pictures. (Even at 52, with multiple degrees, I still like to flip through a book for pictures, LOL: I just did this with a book on the economics of war!) It was even better when Mom read them aloud to me. I remember all of those wonderful visits to downtown Bronx--going to the local department store, which then was Alexander's: even if I got bored looking at Mom's clothes and shoes. We'd either have lunch at Woolworth's or later on, when I was in 2nd and 3rd grade, the local pizzeria. The latter was a real treat on half-days, particularly Fridays; it was such a delight having mom pick me up at school at noon before walking over to have pizza or Kentucky Fried Chicken enroute to the library, where I'd find new books, before heading downtown. Sometimes, we'd head to the zoo (yes, the famous Bronx Zoo!) or the botanic garden. How I remember the elephant rides and what passed for a petting zoo. But there was nothing like the thrill of heading down to Manhattan on the subway, especially on bright, sunny days...what fun it was to go to the Guggenheim and natural history museums....and yes, more shopping. How I remember the Macy's (still there) and Chock Full of Nuts. I think what made all of these outings so special was being able to bond with mom. I'll always remember the times when she held me as I got too tired; this is when I was about 3-4. And when I was older, it meant mom would talk with me there and back. (She was usually too busy when we were at home.) Need to get back to work....but I hope others join in with their favorite memories. It doesn't have to be a childhood memory; it can be as recent as the week before she/he passed.
  23. Hi everyone, I'm new to the forum and really hope there's someone who can relate to my story. My father passed away 15 years ago from a car accident. I was 12 at the time. Since then, my mother has never moved on. As a child I remember I was scared she would date a new man and I was happy that it never happened. But now, 15 years later, I swear I wish she would. She seems stuck in life and doesn't find joy in anything. She doesn't work and as a result has not much to do and serious financial problems. Her children (I am the oldest) are worried sick about her, so much that it's controlling our lives. We have tried to confront her, told her she needs to start doing SOMETHING - go out, walk, work out, anything. But it doesn't seem to help. She has very few people in her life besides her cat - last year our dog died and since then she barely leaves the house. Before she'd walk the dog at least, now all she does is visit the grocery store every now and then. Also, she drinks a lot. We confronted her about this last year because she drank alcohol at 10 in the morning and since then she stopped doing that. She was never drunk or did anything dangerous, but she drank way too much wine. I think all her problems (financial, social) are related to my father's death. I don't think she's ever really dealt with it. She lives alone now - all her children have moved out, so she spends a lot of time on her own. Perhaps that's why it's suddenly hitting her hard. When we were young she had a parttime job, she had some friends, a social life. Now there's nothing and nobody left. We, as her kids, feel responsible but she's so stubborn. She won't accept outside help and I just don't know what to do. It's so sad to visit her and hear the same stories over and over again, often related to my dad, and realise she just hasn't moved on. I'm not saying date someone, but try to move on! In a few years I will probably start having my own children and right now I don't see how I could leave her alone with a baby. Beside her mental health, her physical health isn't great either and nobody really knows why. Like I said, it's probably all related, but what can I do? She won't accept help and this is killing me. I must admit - writing it down already helped. Thanks for reading my story.
  24. This is a fairly long story, but I need to tell it. It has been 3 months since my dad passed away and it seems like my grief is only getting worse. When my dad was 22 years old, he had a heart transplant. He needed the transplant because he contracted a virus that destroyed his heart. I was not born until he was 27. I have grown up knowing that my life almost didn't happen, along with my little sister's. It was hard to understand and then it caused me a lot of inner turmoil as I got older. Dad was mostly okay, despite having some complications from the medicines he had to take. He ended up having both of his hip joint's replaced over the years, one of them had to be replaced twice. It wasn't until I was 19 years old that dad started getting sick again. In April of 2007, my dad had a stroke. Luckily, my cousin was there when it happened and was able to call an ambulance and get him to the hospital. I remember every detail of that morning. I remember my sister calling me. I remember getting in my car and, no exaggeration, driving over 100 mph from my house to theirs, trying desperately to get there before the ambulance left. I was only about 3 minutes too late. We rode with my older sister and several others to the hospital where they took him, and waited to be allowed in to see him. After a while, we went back to his ER room. I tried to keep it together, but seeing him like that shook me. The worst part was that he apologized for upsetting us. All he ever cared about was making sure we were okay. After the stroke, dad stayed in the hospital for a long time. It wasn't a "bad" stroke and he eventually gained back most of his function. However, they discovered the reason for his stroke was a cardiac arrhythmia. The doctors put him on a beta-blocker in hopes of correcting the issues, but this landed him right back in the ER, very very close to death. In the end, he had to have a pace maker and defibrillator placed in his chest to prevent the arrhythmia from causing any more problems. It all went down hill from there. About every year after this, dad would start feeling sick and have to go in the have stents placed in his arteries to prevent heart attacks. Since dad had a transplanted heart, heart attacks didn't feel the same to him or have the same effects as with other people. He had several, but survived them all. This was when they started talking about the transplant list. It was a long process, but he was finally placed on the list on September 13th, 2013. I lived on edge for a long time, wondering when we would get the call. Lets rewind back about a year, in August 2012, I moved 4 hours away from home to go to school. So you can imagine, it was very difficult for me to cope. It was even harder because listed patients are not supposed to travel very far from their hospital and 4 hours was too far. So my parents never visited me at school. Not once. On March 12th, 2015 at 10:21 pm, I received a text from my dad that just said "new heart!!!!!!" I immediately went into shock. I didn't know what to do or how to react. I was right in the middle of my second semester in a professional program and had no idea what would happen if I missed some school to go be with my dad. When my boyfriend got home not to much later, I told him I was getting in my car and driving to be with my dad. I emailed my teachers and hoped they would be okay with me missing a couple of days, and they were. I drove through and got to the hospital before 4 am on March 13th. I was able to see my dad about an hour later, while he was signing the paperwork and consent forms for his surgery. He started making his way to surgery around 5:30 am and went under at 8 am. The rest of the day for me is a huge blur. At some point I picked my little sister up from the airport, and I vaguely remember going to the house to take a short nap. Sometime after 5 or 6 pm, not sure exactly when, we were allowed into his ICU room. Dad was in a medically induced coma, he was on an "ECMO" machine, and he was not well. The right side of the new heart was not working right. He was intubated and on a ventilator. The next several weeks were spent with our hopes being lifted and crushed over and over. What originally was only going to be 24-48 hours of sedation ended up being over 10 days. When they finally took him off of sedation, we discovered he had several major strokes on both sides of his brain. This is where it all fell apart. The hospital, in my opinion, did not take the proper measures to monitor him for strokes, despite his high risk from being on ECMO. They put him through countless procedures. They gave him so many infections. They acted like everything was going to be okay. After about a month of being in ICU, they moved dad to another, less serious ICU. We thought, "Yes, things are going fine." He started going for walks, he started talking, and he started to be more like himself. That's when he started complaining about his stomach pain. The doctors wouldn't even listen to him. They assumed that because he had stomach issues before, that was what it was. He also had hiccups all the time. A couple weeks later, they sent him to rehab. The last step before coming home. I was lucky enough to be there the day he was sent to rehab. It felt like things were finally looking up. I spent one day with him looking at houses for myself and for my parents for when he was better and for when I came home for good. He was in rehab for less than a week before he was sent back to the hospital. Several days later, I received the worst set of calls and text messages of my life. My mom wanted to talk to me but only if my boyfriend was home. Dad's liver was failing. The next day, it was just infected and not failing. Then the next day my sister called to let us know that dad was not going to get better. He wanted to go home for his last few weeks. This happened to coincide with my first day back to school for the summer semester. Again, I started to panic, for obvious reasons, but also because I didn't know if I would be able to leave school for the time I needed and come back without having to repeat the last year. After emailing my teachers through the night, I got the response I had hoped for; go, be with your dad, you can pick up where you left off when you get back. I was back home the next day. Dad was still in the hospital. They had to get things set up with insurance for home care and a bed and all of that. It was a mess, just like the rest of our experience with this hospital. There are so many details I am leaving out just because this is getting so long. We got dad home a few days later. We had to learn how to take care of him and administer his IV antibiotics and antifungals, which were basically keeping him alive. My younger sister and her fiance drove in from half way across the country, and we had started planning a double wedding. Both of my sisters were engaged at this time, and both had already started planning their weddings, but neither wanted to wait. They wanted dad to be there. So we had a massive double wedding/celebration of my dad's life in the front yard of our home. There were at least 150 people there, probably more. It was so beautiful and special. My dad had one of his last good days that day. He got to say goodbye to a lot of family and friends. This was about 4 days after he got home. The next few weeks were just a downward slope. He started out being able to talk and drive around his motorized chair, but after about 2 weeks he was delusional and couldn't do much. He was incontinent and my mom was taking care of him. Like I said before, the antibiotics and antifungals were keeping him alive. Finally, my mom made the decision to start hospice and stop the medications. It only took 3 days for him to go. My sisters, my mom, my two aunts, my new brother in law, and my cousin were all by my dad's side, holding him, while he passed. I will never forget seeing the life leave him. It was both beautiful and terrifying. I still can't tell how much it has damaged me. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I think of that moment and it tears a hole in me. Since my dad passed away, I completed my summer school work in 1 month and kept on track. I had a 3 week break before fall semester. My mom visited me at school for the first time since I moved. And so much more. For the first month, I felt okay. I was so sad and I cried a lot, but I felt like I was coping really well. During my 3 week break, I got really depressed. I think that not having much to do gave me too much time to think. I have been back in school for a month and it will be 3 months since his passing on the 30th. Most days, I don't even want to get out of bed. I feel horrible all the time, like physically ill. I have dreams about my dad being alive all the time, like he just came back from being away for a while. It always screws me up because in the dreams, he is never himself, he is always as he was before he died. I don't want to remember him that way. He was so frail and thin and had aged about 10 years in only 3 short months. I hate remembering him like that. And I am angry! I am so angry with the hospital for how they handled my dad's case. There were way too many doctors who were NOT communicating with one another and contradicting each other! I believe from the bottom of my heart that the hospital killed my dad. I know that sounds harsh, but if you heard all the details, you'd probably agree. The other thing that really pisses me off is that if he hadn't had the transplant or been put on the list, he might still be alive today. He was getting by just fine, and it sure as hell would have been better for him to pass quickly that the horrifying way he went. It was so slow and there was so much pain. I feel so sad for how he went. Now that I have told my story, can someone please help me feel better? I don't have many friends at school, well none really, and my fiance has never lost a parent so he doesn't really understand. He listens, but sometimes it isn't enough. I know I should be in grief counseling or something but I can't bring myself to do it. Someone help. Please. I can't keep living my life in this horrible state of grief and depression. I need to live again and be happy.
  25. My beloved dad passed away almost six months ago, two days after Christmas, 2014. We were very close. My father was my best friend and my hero. I was his only child and his caregiver. He raised me by himself after my parents divorced when I was five years old. For most of the last thirty years I was a caregiver for four elderly relatives in succession, so I stayed home a lot. My dad and I lived in the same house for 55 years. In the last 14 years we were together almost 24/7. It feels like my own life ended with his, because our lives were so intertwined for all those years. And yet, when I look back, I can't believe all the time that has passed. The years passed too quickly. There were so many things I had hoped to do for and with my father, but we ran out of time. Almost every happiness I experienced was associated with him in some way. I grew up surrounded by lots of relatives and friends. Now most of my friends and relatives have died or moved away. For the first time in my life I am alone, no husband, no children, not even a boyfriend. I've never felt such intense loneliness and sadness before. I have tried to make new friends, but the more people I meet, the more I miss my dad, because no one is as kind, generous and considerate as he was. My father taught me to like the things he liked, especially movies and music. Through the years we watched and listened to thousands of films and songs, especially classic films and vintage pop music of the '20's and 30's. Now when I think of our favorite films and songs, I'm filled with sadness and longing. I think of how I'll never be able to watch a favorite film or listen to music with him again. Movies and music used to be our refuge from the worries and sadness of life. The very things that used to comfort me and make me happy now make me sad. Most people don't share my interests, so I feel very isolated. Not much of anything interests me anymore. I don't want to abandon the interests I shared with my father, but it's so painful to think about even the happy memories of my dad. "There is no greater sorrow than to recall a happy time when miserable." -- Dante. I feel so miserable. It happened so fast. My father had been through crises before, but his will to live always pulled him through. It would take too long to describe all the medical things that went wrong, which make me think the hospital wanted him to die. He was 86 and had been sick for a long time, but his death still came as a terrible shock to me. I loved him more than anything in this world, and he knew it, but I still think of times when I wasn't as kind to him as I should have been. I always asked for his forgiveness right away, but I wish I hadn't complained about things so much to him. Compared to the way I feel now, I was in the seventh heaven back then. There were always problems I had to discuss with him, from crooked contractors to inept lawyers to false friends and envious relatives. Our escape from reality were films and music. I practically sacrificed my life for my dad, but I still feel I didn't do enough for him. He was such a good person, so humble, patient and considerate. In his younger days, he was strong, handsome and as chivalrous as they come.. I always felt safe in his presence, even after he could no longer physically protect me. I was so proud of my dad. He never finished high school, but he had more class in his little finger than some people have in their whole body. People say I will get used to living alone, but will I get used to being unhappy? I never realized before just how dependent my happiness was on my father. I know my presence was a comfort to him, too. I helped save his life more than once, but there were times he was alone in the hospital, because I had to sleep and there was no one to cover for me. I thought he would be watched over in the ICU, but twice I found him in distress with no one helping him. It broke my heart to see my normally stoic father beg for air, water and God's mercy. Then when he saw me, he thanked me so profusely. From that point, I knew I could not leave him by himself anymore. But by then it was too late. Once they put him on the morphine drip and removed the nasal gastric feeding tube, it helped with his breathing and for a brief while he was his normal, calm self, until he drifted off into unconsciousness. Those last images of him relaxed and calm save my sanity. I then watched him die for 36 hours straight in Comfort Care from respiratory failure. They say he didn't suffer, but his labored breathing looked uncomfortable. Sometimes his furrowed brow made it look like he wanted to wake up. As I kept vigil by his bedside, I finally nodded off to sleep in the chair. Then he took his last breath. It's as if my father had waited for me to fall sleep before he left this world. I was lucky to have had my father with me for as long as I did, but even at age 56, I feel like a orphan, alone and lost in the world. My mother died just two months before my dad, but she didn't raise me. The grief for my father is much worse, because I was with him my whole life. My life seems so empty now. People tell me to keep busy, but I still think about him, no matter what I'm doing. Some activities make me think about him even more, such as working in the garden. I feel I should have treated him like the rare treasure that he was, and not spent so much time on my hobbies. I should have cherished every last moment with him. There were quiet times, when we'd be resting on the couch, when I did cherish our time together, even if we didn't say a word to each other. I thought he had a few years left. I'd give up everything I have just to spend one more hour with him, an hour where we could still talk and laugh as if we didn't have a care in the world, like in the good old days. I'm not sleeping well. It was a struggle to wean myself off of Ambien and then Ativan. I barely have enough energy to wash the dishes and do the laundry. I still have to do most of the same mundane chores I did before, but now without the joy of my dad's company. Even taking the garbage out and making a grocery shopping list was more fun when he was around. When you've been happy with someone all your life, how can you go on without them? I have lost loved ones before, but I always had my dad to give me moral support. Now there is no one in the world who loves me. There are people who like me, but it's not the same as having a parent, a child, a sibling or a partner who really cares about me. Then I feel so sorry for my father, that he didn't get to do a lot of the fun things that most people do. Partly it was his choice. He was happiest at home, but I feel like he short-changed himself. I haven't had the most fun life either, as a caregiver all those years, but at least my life had a purpose and I was with people I loved every day. Life without love is no life at all! Now I have the time and freedom to do fun things, but they aren't fun anymore, because I miss my dad. I keep seeing things he would have liked and I wish so much he could see them. Sometimes I wonder if he is in heaven seeing wonderful things and wishing I could see them, too.