My Dad

My dad died in June of this year. I've been wanting to write a blog post about it since he passed away but just couldn't bring myself to do it. Even as I sit here writing I want to stop and walk away. I didn't feel it was right to write about anything else, which is why this blog has been quiet for so long. For some reason it seems writing down that he is gone and how I feel about it...makes it so, real...or final.

Since he passed away I have had friends and family ask me how I am doing. Most of them, I know are uncomfortable and don't know what to say, so they say nothing. Many of the one's who do ask, I know only want me to say that I am fine. If that is all you want to hear you probably should stop reading now.

It seems that knowing that someone is sick and probably going to die soon should make it easier. It doesn't.



Having the girls around the keep me busy definitely has helped me. For the first few weeks after he died and I had a minute of quiet, I would randomly burst into tears. Driving down the road, making coffee, taking a shower - my mind would automatically drift to him. How young he was, how he died, what his last conscious minutes were like, my girls not being able to know him, and of course all of the things he will miss. Did he know he was going to die? Did he think that once he got to Duke the doctors would help him and he'd be fine just like every other time he'd had a problem? There are many questions that I have but haven't been brave enough to ask yet. I don't think I want to know. Knowing the truth might be worse than wondering.



I wasn't close to my dad as he lived out of state for most of my childhood. I would maybe see him once or twice a year. When he did live locally I saw him a little bit more but still not as much as most people see their dad's. When he died even though I didn't have a close relationship with him, I couldn't help but feel sad for the relationship we never had. When he was alive I was content with the relationship we had - it was all I ever knew. But when he passed away I couldn't help feel sad that our relationship couldn't ever be anything more. You always think you'll have more time.

It's been over 2 months now since he passed away. Certain random things or words will trigger memories in my brain that I cannot control. If someone mentions Duke Hospital a snapshot of sitting by my dad on life support and being told by the doctors that he probably won't make it appears in my head. I don't mean to think of it - it's like a reflex. Lots of words will trigger snapshots in my head and none of them are happy. Not yet anyways. Grief, is a bitch.

And of course there's the guilt. I feel sorry that I wasn't more involved in his treatment. Sorry that I didn't search for alternative methods to treat his cancer besides chemo. Sorry that I trusted the doctors at Duke and all the medical professionals to give him the best treatment. Sorry that I thought they knew what was best. I never questioned what they were doing, not until about a month ago. I can't even recall why but I searched for alternative methods to chemotherapy. Then I became angry. Angry at the doctors for putting poison in people's body with a hope it will wipe out the cancer before wiping out all of the person's healthy cells first. I should say that my dad passed away from multiple myeloma which is a bone cancer but that is not what he died from. He died from chemotherapy. But that's another blog post entirely.

So, let's end this post on a happy note. At least as happy as possible. I am thankful my dad moved to NC. I am thankful that over the past 7 years I was able to spend holidays with him. I am thankful that he was able to meet my children and them him. I am thankful I have photos of him holding both of my daughters when they were babies. I am thankful that I have videos of him with both of my girls. I am thankful he was able to come to the girl's birthday parties. I am thankful I was able to see him before he passed away.

I am thankful he is my dad.