I haven't written in a year... It's been... busy! To say the least. I read my last entry, and it brought back a wave of memories. I guess I shouldn't write to catch up.
My father passed November 25th, 2015, about 6 months after I wrote that blog post. I'm not mad at God. I'm not mad at my Dad. I miss him everyday. However, when I say he REALLY loved those last 6 months, he really did. We spent a lot of time traveling between here and NY to see him. The decline was so rapid in the last 2 weeks. The rest of the time, he was just, well, Dad. The same. He was super strong and went through tons of life extending chemo, for us. I knew it was for us because 3 weeks before he passed, he was told his cancer had spread and was asked if he wanted more chemo or to go on hospice. He called and told me that he really thought about it, but that he was done with fighting with chemo. He wanted to fully enjoy what he had left. And he said "I'm not scared to die." And in all of the years that I knew my Dad, he never said anything with such confidence and truth behind it. He really wasn't afraid.
I got to know my Grandma very well. My extended family showed me who was truly a kind person (which there were lots, just not where we all expected it to come from which was infuriating). Three days before he passed he went out for a cigarette on the back porch where he always went. He hadn't taken any of his medication and I knew where it was going. He came back in and he said "I want to tell you all that I am ready to go Home". And he didn't cry. He was ready. And I think even though it hit us all like a ton of bricks, we knew. We knew he was ready and we were more ready than you can be in that situation for him to be pain-free and at peace. The night before he passed, I kissed his head and told him I loved him. He said "I love you too".
When I came over the next morning, I knew it would be within hours at the most. My husband luckily had come back to be with us that day or the day before. I can't remember which. But when I went in the see him, I tried to calm him down. It seemed to work every other time he got agitated in the past 2 weeks as he declined. But he wasn't there. I don't know how else to explain other than his spirit and soul and every bit of himself was already checked out. Within the hour, the wonderful hospice nurse came over, gave him medication to relieve his pain and his agitation, and he passed. So peacefully.
Benjamin, who was just over 1, was wonderful. Babies are smarter than you think. He knew something huge just happened and he came over and he held me. Yes, I was holding him, but he held me back and just laid his precious head on my chest and made me feel such a great comfort. My husband came back from running an errand that my grandmother asked him to do, and further made me feel better. I'd be lost without my two men.
My grandma's church community was incredible, and everyone pulled together to make things as easy as possible on us. A huge part of my struggle with all of this was living with the idea of "do I leave and let him pass without me there because I can't handle it? Or do I stay?" When I arrived that last stretch, I knew I couldn't leave. I knew I could never get on that plane with my brother and say goodbye, knowing it would be the last time I would see him.
I'm glad I stayed.
I honestly have so much love for my dad because of the time we spent together. Although 57 is a short life, he truly lived and we had never talked and laughed and spent so much time together. I was happy that as a RN I could help care for him in the end. He thanked me everyday and said "I'm so proud of my little nurse". It makes me cry now thinking of it. All I did in life was to make he and my mom proud.
Thanksgiving and Christmas was somber as you can imagine.
Some nights it hits very hard.
He would have been 58 on June 30th this year.
I live, and move on, but I miss him so much.
In April, we found out we were expecting again. I was overjoyed (and still am), but part of my heart breaks knowing I can't share it with my dad and that this little one won't ever know the man who raised me. I know he knows. I know he's watching over me, and I take comfort in that. I just miss being able to hear his voice and feel his hugs.
I'm 3 months along and I'm sicker than ever. I never had that with Benjamin! Everyone is thinking pink, but who knows?
I know this post is mostly sad, but I'm truly blessed. My job worked with me so much during my Dad's illness and death. My husband has been a wonderful support. My mom and brother and I have gotten closer. We truly are over the moon about our pregnancy. Nathan got a new wonderful hobbyist he actually loves going to and he got a very significant pay raise. I rebranded my photography and I'm excited to see where that goes.
All in all, this past year has been a blessing in disguise.
"I might as well get back to my music" - The Good Rats
