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My dad passed away


hinderme

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My father has been ill for 12 years. He had a ruptured brain aneurysm when I was 15, in 2004. He survived against all odds but was left disabled, paralyzed on his left side. His life changed drastically. Our life changed drastically. I'm the youngest of three girls. My mom and dad had worked hard and bought their dream house about 7 years before he fell ill. It had enough room for all us girls, big back yard, and they made many improvments. In fact my dad was working on installing new storm doors in the front yard when he collapsed. I was the only one home when it happened.

That day, and the few that followed, hit us like a freight train. I had never experienced such anguish in my life, and at 15 it was so traumitizing. Nothing's ever been the same. My mom became my dad's caretaker, managing his appointments, medications, finances, everything. My sisters both lived at home so they would help with his daily care. He bounced between home and nursing homes a few time. He had so many health issues, from his heart, to seizures, to bouts of pneumonia, MRSA, and a torn esophagus, among countless other things. He was in pain every day from his contracted limbs, and would yell out when we had to move him. He lost a good portion of his vision, and his mentality completely changed after the aneursym. He was still sweet and caring. That never changed. He loved his family more than anything else in the world. He regained the ability to talk and got good use out of his right arm, so was able to feed himself and give good one armed hugs (which he loved). He was silly and funny, sitting there in his wheelchair while talking back to people on the tv. He even relearned how to write, although quite messily. He was great at making phone calls, and this past year learned how to text (he held his flip phone upside down while typing to make it easier).

It's been no secret that he's ill. He's lost weight, especially since my mom moved him back to a nursing home for the last time. He became a picky and reluctant eater, and wasn't interested in tv. I went to visit him a few weeks ago, not knowing it would be last time seeing him. He was overjoyed to see me. He gave me so many hugs that day. I sat on his bed and we talked for a good long while. He told me that he felt ready to go. I didn't like hearing him talk like that. i told him he had more time, that he was a fighter. He said that he felt like he was getting weaker, and that whenever God was ready to take him, he'd go without a fight. I'd never heard him talk like that before. He wasn't emotional or tearful. He was matter of fact and open about it. He said my oldest sister hadn't visited lately because it upset her to hear him talk like this. His own mother would hang up the phone if he brought it up during their calls. I felt like it was only right to be an outlet for his feeling, even though I didn't like to think of it. He also told me that he'd come visit me after he was gone. I said he sure better. Little did I know that would be one of our last conversations.

I sat with him that day as he picked at his lunch while the Olympics was playing on tv. He wasn't interested in it. He offered me his food several times, like he usually does. I asked him what he'd like to eat; he said KFC, so I promised I'd bring it next time I visited. That time never came. I had plenty of opportunities. I just hadn't gotten back. 

It's tearing me up inside that he felt so lonely near the end. He said that above all he just wished he could be home. It was a nice facility, but he said he felt like he was in a nut house. He didn't understand why my mom sent him there. He just wanted to be with his family. It broke my heart at the time because I felt powerless to help him. And at the very end, earlier today, when his breathing became labored and his BP dropped, we weren't there. We didn't know in time. The nursing home called my mom, but by then he was already in the ambulance, and that's where he passed. Not surrounded by family, the family he loved more than anything else. That is ripping me up inside. I just wanted to say goodbye to the man that gave me everything. I wanted to tell him I loved him. I so hope he knew that. I wanted him to look around the room at all the loving faces, to be encompassed with warmth and adoration like he deserved. Its so cruel, to be struck down and disabled, to suffer for so long, and then to be alone at the very end. I don't think I'll ever get over that

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So sorry for your loss, Don't beat yourself up. Your dad knew you loved him. I too have guilt but I was with my dad so not the same. Just be comforted that your dad knew he was loved. I hope you can find a therapist to help you cope with regrets and grief. It's coming up on a year for me. While everyone is different, I can't think it's easy for those of us who were close to our dads. I have plenty of regrets but in my heart I know I did the best I could at the time and under the circumstances, and I hope you will come to the same conclusion.  

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Unfortunately, life doesn't have a pause button, not even when loved ones are ill or dying. There was no pause button for you to push while you went to take a shower, get something to eat, run errands, maintain your social network.  Those are things that have to be done in life.  Like Caroljones said, your dad knew you loved him and was ready to go.  It's possible that he willfully rejected nutrition because he didn't want to stay.  For all you know, he would have preferred his loved one's not be there to witness the end and have the vision to carry around for the rest of their lives.  Don't beat yourself up, and go easy on your mother if you can.  It can be devastating as you know to be a caretaker, to be having to grieve the relationship you had while trying love and care for a changed loved one.  

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