Gone but NEVER Forgotten
My name is Annie and I was 20 when I lost my father, he was 49. My father was never sick (had the flu here and there, but nothing more.) He never smoked, drinked or even ate fast foods, yet he suffered from heart failure on Mother’s Day (5-13-12.) I was there when it all happened (he started to turn purple and gasped for air) I couldn’t save him, part of me can’t forgive myself (I want to become a doctor, yet I couldn’t even save my father.) He died at the hospital, 2 hours were spent, his heart would pump on its own, but then it would sink that happened a few times before we were given the option to stop his chest compression because of the pain, we said ok) I know he’s in a better place, but I always wonder why me, am I a bad person who deserves this? Then I think about all of those children who have lost their fathers at a young age and it comforts me that I am not alone. I don’t have many regrets, but I do wish I would have paid more attention to what he used to tell me instead of being on my phone the whole time. Ultimately, I loved my father and he knew that. Life is completely different I feel scared without my protector and I don’t want to face the world, but I know I have to. “Time will heal your broken heart,” is what everyone tells me…I hope so
I have some questions:
-Do you have dreams of your father?
-How do you help a mother cope with the loss of her best friend, her husband?
- Does life really get better?