Well, this is going to be a somber post but based on my life (if any of you are interested keep reading), this weekend was rough for me emotionally.
Today marked the two month passing of my mom. I have many regrets with her and I just hope in the end, though she couldn't communicate, she knew she was loved, hubby and I took great care of her and that she received what she wanted most at the end...to be with her husband of 51 years in heaven.
This leads me to Saturday. I was a crying, sobbing mess all day! I'd lost my best friend in my dad who'd passed one year ago but it felt like yesterday. For the last year or so of his life, we did so much together and he taught me a lot! It felt like there I was, sitting at his bedside, holding his cold hand as I watched his heart monitor slowly go down to zero where I'd lose him for forever. I would have to say that was the hardest day of my life. My only consolation was that he was no longer in pain.
So, while my mom had 51 years with him, I'd had 41 years with him in my life and I was truly a 'daddy's girl'. When he was no longer comfortable driving, I was there to take him wherever he needed/wanted to go. We spent precious time in his garage where he secretly smoked cigarettes (mom didn't know) and we talked about anything and everything. He showed me how to use tools and equipment (saws, working with wood, painting, etc). He always made sure I had what I needed and even slipped me a $20 bill from time to time when he could.
For the last seven months of his life, hubby and I lived in his basement so I was there to help care for him and mom (dementia). We would go 'shopping' together which meant he got to get out of the house, would give me his list and money and then sit in the car and smoke while I ran into the store...lol. He was and always had been a character with the jokes he told (that he'd been telling the same ones I heard all my life) and he would just make people laugh which was his goal.
Through four colostomy bags, stomach surgery with mesh and a woundvac for a while, he still got outside and planted things, pulled weeds and puttered around though he was allergic to the sun. He always wore a long sleeve shirt and hat in an attempt to protect his skin. He'd been in and out of the hospital for various reasons.
The day he passed, he'd went into surgery for a routine debridement of a spot on his back. In recovery he suffered a heart attack and was down for over 20 minutes. He was taken up to ICU where he continued to have heart attack after heart attack as I stood in the hall sobbing hysterically every time the alarms went off...knowing I was losing him. He was on a ventilator and a doctor came in and told me he had a punctured lung which they could go in and fix. We'd discussed this as a family and we agreed that if we were only being kept alive by machines then we were to pull the plug. I asked the doctor if he thought dad was brain dead and he said most likely. I told him to stop everything and just let him go.
As humans, that's the last thing we want ts to let our loved ones 'go' but I think that's selfish to make them hold on and suffer because I can't bare the thought of letting him go. Near the end, I stroked his hair and told him it was okay for him to go and be with his parents (one of whom he'd never met).
After he passed and I got home, mom was waiting for an update as she couldn't physically walk through the hospital to see him so she was anxious as I hadn't returned her calls. When I told her what had happened, she almost slid out of her chair with a 'WHAT!?'. I sobbed and said I was sorry over and over and felt like I let everyone down. Later she told me I made the right decision but it sure didn't feel like the right decision as that moment.
After that, mom was a mess so I went into survival mode. I handled all the phone calls, final arrangements, etc. I'd always told hubby that when my dad passed, I'd be a mess and I'd need him to step up and help mom. Well, I think I didn't really get that period of time to properly grieve so a year later I'm a mess!
Just after he passed, on the suggestion of a close friend, I wrote letters to him in my journal but when we moved in November from Ohio to Nevada, I kinda got out of the habit. After speaking with my current therapist, who had no knowledge of my journal letters, asked me what my plans for the day were. I said I was just going to lay in bed and cry. She suggested I write a handwritten letter to dad...but what should I say? We shared so much in life together, through good times and bad that I didn't really know what to put in the letter. I finally was able to write one but it was morbid.
Hubby tried to console me but I needed way more than that! I needed my daddy back! I felt like my heart had shattered into two pieces...one for hubby and one for dad which was slowly turning black and dying inside my body. How was I expected to just 'get over it'? Everyone afterwards kept telling me that with time it would get easier. Well, after a year, if was just as hard if not harder than that day so people tell you what you want to hear (my conclusion). I missed him more than anything in my life (the loss of my home, the repo of my car, loss of job, etc) and there was nothing I or anyone could do to make it better, even at least just a little better.
So, I lit a candle for him, looked through some pictures of him and sobbed.
Sorry for the morbid, long post. I didn't plan on it being this long, it just turned out that way. Thanks for taking the time to read this and next Sunday's post will be about the release of book 2 of my Immortal Series which is going to be released on my dad's birthday, 8/13 to honor his memory. Can't wait for you all to read the series. Book 1, Immortal Heirs is already available on Amazon, Smashwords and Draft2digital so go check it out because the books need to be read in order to understand what's going on.