Dad

Things I wish I had done while he was still alive:

Lost weight - I was always meaning to but never did, I feel like a failure.

Taken him to Cadwell Park- I went to see the racing once with my friend, and promised dad I would take him on his birthday but never did because I was skint/lazy.

Learnt more from him- I learnt so much from him, but I could have learned so much more if I wasn't so ignorant and self absorbed, but hey teenagers. You don't expect your parents to be gone by 23.

Got to know him - I have a pretty good idea of the person my dad was, but now he is gone I wish I knew everything. What was he like at school? Who were his friends? Jesus, I only learnt the story of how mum and him got together when it was read at his funeral.

Succeeded- In my mind I had much longer to do this, I had planned to become successful and happy in whatever I wanted to do because this would in turn make him happy, and I would have shared my unlimited wealth with him as a thank you for being him.

Found a miracle cure - this one is really clutching at straws, but basically what cured my dad of leukemia when I was younger, is what caused his fatal heart attack in March, I wish there was a way he could have been cured and then not punished for being cured later in life.


Okay, so for those that don't know.... My dad died unexpectedly in March. He had cancer when I was younger, but was cured through radiation and chemotherapy treatment. He had a huge heart attack, and died of organ failure within 4 or so days. He was my hero, and role model, I really do see him as the greatest. I'll never be okay, but I'm getting to the point where I want to talk about him. A couple of days after he passed, I had run back to Manchester because I couldn't take being around family, below is something I wrote because I couldn't talk with him. I've never shared it with anyone but I need to learn that problems aren't things to keep all to myself. So;

29^th March 29, 2013 Friday

Dad,

It has been just over 48 hours since you left, and today is your birthday.  You told me to make the most of each day, and it felt wrong to be moping on your birthday, so M and I went to the cinema. We saw Oz the Great and Powerful, I enjoyed it, and realised that normally I would tell you about it in our next phone call, but I’ll never speak to you again. We then popped to the shops to buy a vase for my flowers. When I got back to Manchester yesterday, M had bought me some ‘cheerful’ flowers, I appreciated the thought, and they do make our flat look better.

We got the bus back home, and I started to feel sad again, the movie and the nice weather had lifted my spirits slightly, but public transport is depressing whether you are grieving or not. The people on the bus are always grim, people might call me snobbish for thinking that, and perhaps you wouldn’t be best impressed either, but just because you are not blessed with money doesn’t mean you need to forget about manners and composure. Anyway, two people got into a fight before we had even left Piccadilly and M stepped in to break them up. I found myself angry that these two people, who couldn’t even sit next to each other for 5 minutes, were allowed life yet you, who had never done anything even remotely aggressive to anyone, had lost your life. It didn’t seem fair. I felt that people everywhere weren’t deserving of their lives, and that they were wasting so much when you would have made the most of it. I guess this is the anger part of my grief. I think that instead of experiencing the seven stages consecutively, I seem to be experiencing a bit of all of them and flitting back and forth.

At times I feel okay, I remember something about you and smile. Other times I realize I’m not going to have any more memories of you than the ones that already exist and my heart falls from my chest. I’m scared that my terrible memory will let me down and I’ll forget some of our moments. I don’t want to forget a single thing about you.  I want to dream of you to keep my memories alive, even if it means that I wake up in the morning realizing you are gone all over again.

I keep picturing the moment you went. I held your hand, I’m not sure if you could see me by that time, but I kept my eyes on your face, and the ECG monitor. I could see your heart rate dropping even before the nurse said that it wasn’t looking good. I watched it drop lower and lower and I knew what was coming. I wanted so badly for a sudden rise in that number and for you to come back but I could see you slipping. When the number hit 30, and then 0, I couldn’t believe that it had actually happened. I guess a part of me still doesn’t. The nurse lowered your bed and turned off the machines and that is when I left the room. I couldn’t feel you there anymore , it was like staring at an empty body. 

I walked away crying, I wanted to be alone. I found a bench in the corridor and sat there for I don’t know how long. I was just staring at the snow outside, and crying. I realized that my worst nightmare had actually happened. This whole week since your heart attack, I had never believed that you’d actually die. That’s why I’d managed to hold it together for mum and L when they had been crying. Something was different that morning though, when I walked into the ward I had an overwhelming need to cry, something was different and on some level I knew what was going to happen. I made some excuse about a runny nose and left mum with you. Whilst I was sat in the reception area the doctor came and told you that you had now got pneumonia, and that there was nothing more they could do for you.  I found it so hard to be around you because we knew what would happen in the next few hours, my worst fear would come true, but at the same time I didn’t want to not be with you. After all, even though this is indescribably hard for us, you were going to the unknown, and had to leave all of us behind, through no choice of your own. I was scared for you more than for me. You seemed to take it all in your stride, you really are the strongest person, I didn’t see you shed a single tear.

So now you are gone, I’m sorry that I’ve not stuck around with mum, but she has L and L to look after her, and they will do a better job then me, you know I’m not good with emotions, I’d much rather be alone. I always thought that you were my link to the rest of the family anyway, I’m different to them, but it was always okay when you were there. Now that you’ve gone, I feel a bit estranged, through no fault of theirs, they have been nothing but supportive but it kind of only reminds me of the differences between us.

Anyway, I wanted to write this down, because I don’t want to forget you or my memories of you, even the painful ones. I’m sure I will have more to write yet.

I love you forever.

Laura.

I hope this relates to other people grieving, that's the aim of this, but at the very least I hope it helps people appreciate what they have. Sorry for the rather grim post but I assure you the next S&C will be back to the usual! I'll leave you with the song that dad used to listen to when he was receiving cancer treatment (and that he also requested for his funeral).