One month anniversary
My dad’s name was Walter Welker. He died last month on March 7. He was a veteran and we buried him at the national cemetery. I know he was not doing great medically, but I expected he had more time to live. I was planning his and moms 35th wedding anniversary for this year. I knew the theme, and got someone to do the small ceremony for them to renew their vows. They had a horrible wedding, and I wanted to give them something special. I just wish I had done it sooner, now it is too late.
In ways I am so angry with the VA doctor who took care of my dad, not his counselor, but his main doctor. Dad was on so much medication, some of the side effects of some of the meds were weight gain. My dad grew large, his ankles swollen to the size of melons, he could not wear shoes, and his legs were white from dead skin cells. The doctor said my dad was just eating too much, that he needed to go on a diet and loose weight; he refused to believe that the medications were just making him larger.
I wish my dad tried to walk, but between his weight and his bad knees he barely could move, but to his credit, he never got a scooter unless it was in a store, and he never did use a wheelchair, except when mom was in the hospital last year. I just wish that the doctor did more for my dad before the end.
As I said, it’s the one month anniversary, one month ago my dad died and I sIt here typing and hurting, wondering why he was taken so soon after I forgave him for hurting me in my past. Why I did not have more time with him, he would have only been 60 this year if he lived till his birthday.
I wonder if praying that God would heal and end my dad’s suffering was the reason he died. Did God answer my prayers only for it to be what I did not want, was that the only way for God to end my dad’s suffering? Was it because I was planning their 35th anniversary kill him, did he give up on living? I don’t mean to blame myself, but these questions keep coming to me.
I am not married yet, don’t have children and it hurts, my dad will never walk me down the aisle; he will never hold his first grandchild, his grandchildren will never know their grandfather as I never knew my grandmother.
Right now things seem so unfair, so painful, and so raw. I am trying to allow myself to grieve, but I have always hated crying, and every time I find myself crying I try to stop myself, telling myself I need to be stronger. I don’t know how to give in to my feelings, to allow myself to be strong enough to allow myself to cry.
I miss him so, wait for me dad, one day many years from now I will see you again, I have to hold onto that hope.