Members paran0ir Posted December 3, 2013 Members Report Share Posted December 3, 2013 On the 17th December 2012, my Dad passed away suddenly. He was in a hospital ward, but he'd been given the all clear to come home after a successful round of chemo for myeloma. He had previously been in an intensive care unit and we were told on November 5th 2012 that he wouldn't last the night. Against all these odds, we were told he was now given a clean bill of health and he was due to come home on the 18th December. He never made it.Because we were all in such high spirits, my Mum was out at a work meeting, sharing the good news with friends and colleagues. My grandparents were out at a party, toasting my Dad's amazing recovery. I was at home a couple of hours away with my husband, excitedly planning the Christmas ahead, so happy to be having my Dad well again. And then the phone rang. A nurse from his hospital told me she couldn't get hold of my Mum, or grandparents (I'm an only child). I explained they were out for the evening and she babbled a bit then I caught the words '..getting into bed and he collapsed, they tried to revive him but I'm so sorry...he's passed away. I'm so sorry'. The next few minutes were a bit of a blur. I dropped the phone and rushed to the loo, certain I was going to throw up. My husband took the phone, I believe he confirmed the news and then he fell onto the floor with me. He was crying while I was just screaming. Actually screaming. I then spent the next hour or so trying to get in touch with my Mum while we began driving back home (a two hour journey). Having to tell my Mum over the phone that we'd lost him is something I will never, ever forget. Suffice to say, Christmas was a bit numbing. I didn't really feel anything. His funeral was on the 9th January 2013 and in all honesty it was one of the most brutally painful days of my life. I had a breakdown back in June, on Father's Day (I'm in the UK). Quite a few friends abandoned us, fed up with my grief. But, we pulled through it as a family. The moment December hit a couple of days ago I felt that same awful nausea that plagued me for the first three months after Dad's death. I used to love this time of year; I was brought up in a loving family with strong values and relished the time with loved ones at Christmas. Quiet Xmas Days with my Mum and Dad were cherished. I can't even begin to think ahead to Christmas without going into a bit of a catatonic state, or crying for hours at a time. People always warned me the first year and the first 'anniversary' would be the hardest, but I had no idea I'd feel THIS desolate. I can sense people around me getting fed up with my tears and melancholic demeanour but I can't help it. My Mum is doing SO well, she's capturing festive spirit as much as she can, and I'm putting on a brave face as much as I can for her, I think it'd break her heart to know I'm still broken inside. For all the wanting and wishing I've done over the past year I had hoped that I would have come to a more comfortable level of acceptance by now but I haven't. I still feel bitterly angry that my Dad was taken away unexpectedly at my favourite time of year. I feel desolate that he'll never meet his grandchildren and feel cheated that many people say they can still 'feel' his presence. I'm not religious or spiritual so maybe that's a factor, but I rarely even dream of him and I feel so abandoned. I just want so much to pick up the phone, call home and have him tell me to kick myself up the back-end and live my life. On my wedding day in October 2012, two months before he died, he told me that he wanted me to live a full and exciting life. But I feel like I can't, especially knowing he's never going to share any of it. Sorry it's long for a first post, It's very hard to find people to talk to about this. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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