Please stay...

Dad passed away 3am on Wed Nov 4th. My sister is a nurse. She is so calm and comfortable around medical things. I am so thankful that she was here. She slept by dad's hospital bed on Monday and Tuesday night. I woke up about 2:50am on Tuesday to go pee. After, I went out to the living room where Dad & Ang were. Ang told me she didn't think Dad would last very long. I held his hand for a moment and then went back to bed. 10 minutes later she came and told me she thought he had died. We both returned, he was gone. I can't tell you how bad I wanted to scream out his name. He'd always been there when I cried out for him before. Standing sturdy, waiting to hear what I needed, how he could fix something. There was this irrational part of me that wanted to believe that crying out for him would wake him, bring him back, make him well. It was so crushing when I realized how irrational of a thought that was.

Dad was always very protective of his "high tech gadgets". I asked before I did anything on his computer. I put together a slideshow of pictures for his party. There were several file folders created and transferred to a flash drive. I was so worried I was going to make him crabby.

I drove Ang to the airport tonight. On the way back I was listening to "The Song of the Moment" (off to the right of this page). It is a beautiful song, and I so felt what it was saying. I distinctly remembered driving him to chemotherapy the last time I was here. I had my hand on his skinny leg and let a rush of sadness sweep over me, wishing yet simultaneously accepting that I wasn't going to be able to wish him healthy. Tonight I looked over to that passenger seat and touched the seat and started to cry.

This is the hardest thing I've ever been through. When I cry, I swear it physically hurts. When I look at my mom, my heart breaks all over again. She is mourning and devastated. I truly am lucky to be able to say that my parents loved each other; adored and admired each other.

My dad is amazing. He has a giving, loving, heart. Honestly, I'm refusing to speak about him in past-tense. I question if that is a bit of denial. Or maybe it's because he'll never, ever, truly be gone.