Still Daddy's Girl
My precious father passed away on June 1, 2012. The grief is almost unbearable. Although he had been sick since March, his death was unexpected and my mother and I are reeling from the loss.
I was fortunate to have had my father for 57 years. As my parents were getting more and more frail, I spent more and more time with them. My dad and I had a special bond. Everyone who knew him remarked at what a happy man he was. And was he ever! Even though he was suffering from diabetes and arthritis, he doted on my mother, never once complaining. I used to love to take him out to lunch, just the 2 of us, and he would tell me stories I've heard a hundred times and still enjoyed hearing because it made him so happy to tell them.
March marked the beginning of the end. What started as gall bladder trouble became heart failure and kidney failure. On June 1, my mother, who moved in with us, became very ill and started vomitting. After coming home from work I anticipated going to the er to see my mother and then go to rehab to see my father. I left the er at 4:30 and found my dad lying in bed sleeping. I woke him up, but I could tell it was difficult for him to talk. I should have known what was happening when he pointed to the foot of the bed and said to me, "Open." He kept saying that over and over. Of course I couldn't see anything and kept asking him what was there. When he fell asleep again around 7:00, I snuck out of his room, not kissing him or saying goodbye because I "knew" I would see him tomorrow. Tomorrow never came. At 10:30 he passed away, all alone. I am wracked with guilt that I left him. I didn't say goodbye. I keep asking myself,"Did he call out for me? Did he wonder where I was?" I can't forgive myself. A few times he would say to me, "When I go, I never want you to have any regrets. You are the best daughter anyone could have." All of that was washed away that night and I can't live with myself.
I've also lost my faith. My dad couldn't wait to turn 90. He missed it by 28 days. He couldn't wait to move in with us after he got out of rehab, and was also robbed of that. I'm so angry at God. Why couldn't He allow him just one more summer?
I'm now left with taking care of my mother while dealing with my own grief. She can't do anything for herself anymore and her grief has left her just sitting in a chair, not speaking.
I keep praying that my dad will come to me to tell me he's ok, but he hasn't . Now I feel there's nothing after this life. My dad loved us so much, if he could come back, he would.
Daddy, I miss you and love you so much. I am so grateful to have had you as my father.