Thursday, January 19, 2017
My dad died last month. For 8 long months he dealt with dying. We were all with him throughout it all, but he had to do it alone. First was the diagnosis; next was the treatment and prognosis; next was the awful news that nothing could be done. Step by step he came closer to death. With saying Good-Bye. We were "lucky" that he got to say Good Bye. I couldn't ever speak the words while he was alive. He said "Deb, most are not lucky enough to be able to say Good-Bye." "I know dad, but not yet", I replied. I know he wasn't afraid to die. My words -- He was good with God. He was afraid to leave us. To know that my sisters and I would have to look after mom. Would have to fill his shoes with her. I know he always had faith in us, but he was still in the background. He could still offer his help if we needed it. Now its up to us. We are doing it. Mom is coping pretty well, but it's so sad that he is not here. So sad to look for him and know I'm not going to see him at family gatherings. So sad to know I can't call him. I know I can talk to him, but it's just not the same. I have several voicemail messages from him. Some before he got too sick, a couple close to the end. They are heartbreaking to hear. I miss him. I miss that we will not be able to talk about stuff. Every day stuff. Important stuff. While we said what I think we needed to say, there will be be things that are new. I have to have faith that he will hear me when I talk and I have to learn to be still so that I can hear him too. See ya later Dad. I love you.