Goodbye Daddy, I hope to see you on the other side.....
My Dad passed away on 4/13/13 from sepsis at the age of 74, and life as I know it and as my family knew it has never been the same. My oldest sister preceded him in death two weeks prior. I think this was what broke the camel's back. My dad was ill and we could visually see what was happening to him, but we all thought since he was a fighter that nothing could bring him down. I wouldn't say I was in outright denial about his health, deep down I knew he probably did not have much longer. He hated discussing his health problems with us. A lot of the times he would outright refused if we got too concerned. But this time... After my sister's death he was just different. He underwent surgery during this time and was really starting to waste away. My mother had told me that one morning he sat down at the table weakened from surgery and just started to cry. She had started to think this was the beginning of the end. My mother said that was the first cry she saw even after my sister's funeral. Its funny how things work out as my sister, a few weeks prior, packed up her clothes and went to my parent's house unannounced and told them she was going to stay for a few days to visit before going in for minor surgery. She went in for surgery and never came back. She had a pulmonary embolism. I thank God for the time my Dad and Sister got to share. Both seeing each other before saying goodbye. To this day, I tremble thinking about it. Fast forward to April 11, 2013, my niece called me crying hysterical saying "Pa can't get out of bed and can't breathe".."He is not breathing". I was already on my way over there to pick up my little one as my mom was the one who watched him during the day while at work. I get in the house and I see that my niece was able to get my Dad in the wheelchair. There he was sitting, not able to move his legs and barely breathing. From what my mother had told me previously, he had been experience high fevers, chills, severe pain in the legs, but refused to go to the doctor. During all of this craziness, my mother was not to be found. We called 911 and the paramedics came quick, but with my Dad's extensive health problems he would have to be transported to Mayo Hospital, which was an hour away and would take longer to get to at that time because of traffic. I called my husband and he got to the house pretty fast. My husband volunteered to get my Dad to Mayo. By this time my mom had arrived and she was having a complete meltdown. I wanted to fall to my knees, but I had to stay strong. From this point on, reality really started to kick in. Everybody in the house was hysterical. All I can remember is my husband helping the paramedics get my Dad in the truck with him screaming that he was in dire pain and not to touch him. Next thing I know, my other sister backs up into the garage because she was losing it. He finally gets admitted and we were back at it April 12th. He was talking and was able to let us know what he needed that morning, but by the time afternoon rolled around. He was no longer talking and the machines and everything were doing the work for him. Doctors were able to get his last wishes prior to that by having him raise his hands if he did not want his life to be maintained by machines, etc. By late afternoon, Doctor said that he was going to stop everything. He asked us what his favorite music was and commenced to having the nurses unplug everything and set up the music. And that was it. My Dad survived a whole 24 hrs without life support. He took his last breath Sunday, April 13th at 5:20 am. I am here now to find solace with others who have lost their "rock" in their life. Although I am grieving him terribly, I am grieving for my sister as well. These are dark times for me and I hope someone somewhere can tell me that it will be alright. Thank you all for listening.