Friday, Feb. 14, 2014
My dad passed away at 3:00
a.m. We got the call Thursday morning
that he was having some trouble breathing and they were taking him to the
hospital to get further tests and treatment.
By Thursday at 2:00, we got a
call that he had phenomena (with his COPD, not a good combination) and that we
should not hesitate to get to the hospital.
So we packed up the kids and
hit the road. My brother was also
driving and would meet us down there.
My brother got there by 9:30,
and we arrived by 10:30. By the time we
got there he was unresponsive, very slow pulse and low oxygen level.
At 2:30, the nurse said for
us to go home and get some rest. She was
sure he would make it through the night.
We would be back at 6:30 when the doctor made rounds.
She called us back at 3:00,
he was gone.
We had his funeral on Feb. 22nd. It was beautiful and lovely and we were so
well loved and supported.
I’m sorry for my delay in
writing this…we’ve had a lot going on.
And, I just am sad.
I’m so sad because I feel
like I have lost my mom all over again.
I’ve lost my dad. I’ve lost both
my parents. Does one ever really feel
like they are truly ready to be on their own without their parents? I know I was not ready. I’m struggling each day. I’m so sad that I have lost my family. I’m so sad that my children have lost their
grandparents, and will never really know them.
So thankful for my amazing
husband and my beautiful children, but I selfishly, want my mom and dad
too.
“So it’s true, when all is
said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.”
― E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly
― E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly
“Everyone grieves in
different ways. For some, it could take longer or shorter. I do know it never
disappears. An ember still smolders inside me. Most days, I don’t notice it,
but, out of the blue, it’ll flare to life.”
― Maria V. Snyder, Storm Glass
― Maria V. Snyder, Storm Glass
“Now something so sad has
hold of us that the breath leaves and we can't even cry.”
― Charles Bukowski, You Get So Alone at Times That it Just Makes Sense
― Charles Bukowski, You Get So Alone at Times That it Just Makes Sense
