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;
29th 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).
