Sunday, May 6, 2012

Fifty six; the last time I saw my dad.

Well I was showering today I realized that I can't fully remember the last time I saw my dad, the night he died or the day I found out. So I decided, that before I forget more, I'd write it down. And what better place than the Internet? I want people to have an insight to what it was like for me being ten and losing my father.

This could possibly be part one of two, or I may put it all into this one post.
We shall see how tired I get.

Little bit of background before I start;
When I was in.. I do believe first grade, my dad was diagnosed with lung cancer. He was given three years. I didn't know this at the time, but who would tell a six year old that in three years they'd lose their dad?
Anyway, slowly but surely my dad deteriorated. I watch him go from fully mobile, healthy and happy to upset and paralyzed pretty much from the neck down with very little use of his hands. We had a hospital bed in our living room and nurses would come over everyday to help take care of him.

One morning, while getting ready for school, some paramedics came and took my dad, bed and all, out to the ambulance. I didn't even say goodbye.
I felt guilty, he hang his little bell, a sign that he was going to throw up so we were suppose to run over with a bucket for him. I didn't. I just stood there, and he threw up all over his front. He threw up blood. I felt horrible and my mom wasn't exactly the most pleased with me either.
Anyway, I never said goodbye and went to school as usual. As far as I can remember, I never went back.

As it turns out, the cancer was pushing on his spine, pushing into his brain. They wouldn't let him go home. He had to stay in the hospital. I don't remember much from then on, like how my days went. I'm pretty sure we spent most of those days at my aunty Jean and Kelly's house. I remember our counselor coming over with an envelope filled with letters from our classmates, sending their condolences. Not like they really understood what was going on or anything.
That was nice of them though. I didn't understand what was going on really.. I didn't know my dad was dying and wasn't going to be coming back.
I know that our nights were spent at Jean and Kelly's. I remember sitting on the couch, staring out the window hoping that ever set of headlights I saw would be my mom's so we could go home. One of those nights, Kelly wasn't feeling too good so he was walking around with a blanket around his shoulders. He came over and put his arm around me, and we just sat there. I can't tell you when he left, or of he did. I just know we sat there in silence.

This all happened in the winter, so I have no idea what time this happened.. I just no it was dark out. But our mom came over and asked of we wanted to go see out dad. Of course we did.
So we went. We walked into the corner room, closest to the nurses station, and there he was. Laying there. Helpless. I got really hot.. And I think I started to cry. A nurse came in and asked if we wanted popsicles, being kids we agreed. I got my favorite kind, orange. But I was crying too hard to really eat it. I remember being horrified at the fact that a nurse had to come in and suck out all the spit from my dad's mouth.. That he hardly had any idea we were there. His kids. We were told to kiss our dad goodbye and to go into the hall. My dad's coworker, Guy, came in and talked for a little while and I kinda just stood there, getting progressively more annoyed by the little girl singing happy Christmas songs in the hall. During that time Guy left to go sit in the hall, on a chair outside my dad's room. I sat next to him in another chair, I looked over.. And saw something I don't think I'll ever forget.
He put his face in his hands, and a tear fell. The Christmas lights from the tree in the hall glistened off of it. And it slowly fell from his face as he stiffed a sob. After watching him for a bit, I got up. I got up and started to pace. I just walked. I didn't know what to think of all of this. There's my dad, and all these other adults who are suppose to be strong, crying. What did it all mean?
When I heard my mom say "we have to go. You're scaring the kids" "oh god, please no!"
That was probably the most.. Horrendous thing I heard. What felt like seconds afterwords I was being shuffled to the elevator to leave.
I remember getting into the car, putting my head on the window and just sitting there. Staring at the moon. Asking god to keep my dad safe.

After that, I don't know if it was that day that I broke down in the bathroom, praying that my dad would be ok, praying he'd come home. Or if that was another day. But I do remember being kind of in a daze. And my mom was on the phone talking to my grandma in the kitchen, and I walked in, leaned against the cupboard and slid down. I broke into tears. My mom hung up and counseled me.

I have no idea how long my dad was in the hospital for.. But I know it felt like months.


I'm sorry if that's really incoherent, I've been kind of blubbering like a baby while writing this. It's kind of.. Hard to remember it all. But I really need to get this all out there.
I'll post the second part. About the night he died and such later.
Right now I just need to go blow my nose and take a breather, haha.

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