6 Months have gone by and I miss my dad terrible.
I can't move on somehow. It haunts me and affects the way I mother my children. I am a stay at home mom and I think I am depressed. I don't want to blame it on the weather anymore and that I will be fine. I am not. I remember everything, dates, times etc as if it were yesterday. I remember exactly what I was doing. Here is my story:
On December 5th, 2011, it was the first snowfall. I woke up with my son in my condo, in my new pajamaas from Thyme Maternity. I woke with my 3 yr old son and decided on this cold morning after breakfast and coffee to finish the project my son and I had been working on as a christmas present for Grandpa. My dad loved birds. We were building and decorating a bird house/bird feeder for his finch's he owned. That afternoon, I had a doctors appointment for my pregnancy. I had the idea to call dad, but I thought I would wait until I got home because it costs money from my cell. I came home by bus and then had to start dinner. I heard skype, it was my dad. I thought I would ignore the call and call later when I have nothing on the stove. An hour later at 6pm, I called...no answer. I called many times after that and after no answer, I complained to my husband that he was not home and he is always home. At 9pm, after putting my son to bed, I got a call from my sister, in tears. Dad had been hit by a van and was rushed to the hospital.
My husband and I packed a bag, took our sleeping son and drove from Toronto to Kitchener to the hospital that night in a snow storm. My husbands parents picked my son up from the hospital.
In the ICU, doctors and nurses rushed by me, pushing me out of the way. My dad was hooked to all these machines, he was bloody. I felt I was in a nightmare. I will never watch a hospital show again on tv. It was all too real for me.
We stayed with my in laws. My dad was in induced comma for 2 months. Over the Christmas holidays, I would play christmas carols by Bing Crosby in hopes he would wake up. After two cardiac arrests, many surgeries and a tracheiotomy and moving to St mary's hospital and getting a voice plug, he died on Jan 31st, 2012. Two days after, we moved to Milton to be closer to him to help in his long term care. Three weeks later, on March 1st, 2012, my daughter was born. On Feb 6th, was his funeral. We could not have an open coffin, because the coroner office had to give him an autopsy to see cause of death. On Feb 17, 2012 my mother came from Germany for a visit and to clean out his apartment. I could not help because I was highly pregnant.
6 months later, I find it hard to talk about him with my mother. They were separated and she has more feelings of anger than anything else. My father was a good man...he was a broken man, but a good one.
He always had ankolosying spondilitis, a severe form of arthritis. My mother never understood the pain he was in. She often talked to us from a young age about her marital problems. They consisted of him not doing housework and not making enough money at work. He worked with the mentally handicapped and behaviourally challenged in a group home for years. He became a social worker and went to England. My twin and I were not always nice to him. Yet, he loved us unconditionally. Sometimes we felt it was a burden to visit him with our families and take him out to eat. After my parents separated in 2007, he lived on disability, no longer able to work and my mother moved to Germany to care for her parents after her brother died for causes unknown. Her father died shortly after and now she lives in Hannover, Germany with her old high school sweetheart.
I wish I could share how I feel with my mom, I miss my dad terrible and I talked to him a lot as a stay at home mom. I feel guilty for the way I treated him at times. He loved us and gave us the very little that he had. My dad was bullied as a child due to his disability. later my mother in many ways bullied him as well as did we. Yet, he did love us unconditionally. I don't remember songs he sang to us, but I remember he would make up stories, one about a ghost that lived inside a computer and whenever the boy turned the computer on, the ghost was friendly and would come out to talk.
My dad was actually a very centimental man, he told me in November on a phone conversation with him. I miss him more than ever. I surprised myself to learn how much he meant to me when he was here. I regret that he never had a chance to see his granddaughter, but he lives on through my children. My daughter looks so much like him.