Reflections

There are days in our lives that we will never forget.  Every detail still seems as clear as day.  We all remember where we were and what we were doing on September 11th.  You probably remember all the little details of the day you got married, or your first child was born. 

For me the day that is clearest in my mind, is the day that I lost my Hero.  The first man I ever loved and the person I looked up to my entire life.  Saturday marks the 3 year anniversary of the day my father passed away.  

He had been sick for quite some time.  But to most people he seemed fine.  My dad was an alcoholic.  While on the outside he seemed ok, on the inside he suffered.  Those who were close to him could see his problem.  While we tried to help and do what we can, it never seemed enough.  

On July 4th, 2008 my dad was admitted to the hospital. My step sister found him having an apparent seizure and he was taken to the hospital.  He was admitted that night had what appeared to be a revelation.  After about a one week stay in the hospital he came home determined that he wasn't going to drink any more.  That lasted all of about 2 days.  My dad and step mom were going through a pretty nasty divorce and he gave in, worse than before.  

About a month later my sister rushed my dad to the hospital again.  His feet were incredibly swollen, and he was Jaundice.  His livers had stopped functioning and he was in really bad shape.  

Over the next few weeks his he continued to get dialysis and I continued to struggle with getting any answers.  I lived over an hour away, had just started a new job, and had 2 small children at home.  I did everything I could to spend as much time there as possible but it was all so hard.  Not to mention it is extremely hard to see your father in that kind of state.  

It appeared that he was getting better and they moved him to a rehab floor.  We thought he was going to get better.  After about a week I got a call that they were moving him to another floor.  Not knowing any better and just knowing that he wasn't fit to be on the rehab floor any longer I said ok and figured that I would go to the hospital on Wednesday after work like I had planned.  That was two days away.  

What the nurse didn't tell me when she called me is that they had moved my dad to the ICU.  He was in REALLY bad shape.  At this point I still hadn't talked to a doctor, and had no idea what his prognosis was.  

On Wednesday I was scheduled to be at a book stocking about an hour away from home with work.  We were car pooling.  I had a dream that night that I got a call while I was there that my dad had passed away.  

So the next morning I was at the book stocking and was finally able to get a hold of my dad's doctor.  He told me that things looked bad.  He didn't think that he would live more than a week.  Of course hearing this news over the phone was tough, but it was nothing compared to what was about to come.  

I went back to work and about 10 minutes later the doctor call me back.  I was really confused, what did he forget to tell me?  In the 10 minutes since we had gotten off the phone my dad's body gave out.  His heart stopped bleeding, and his body just couldn't take it any longer.  

He was alone, in a hospital room that I should have been there and he died.  

I should have been with him.  I should have held his hand.  I should have told him I love him one more time.  I know that it isn't healthy to put this blame and stress on myself, but I can't help but feel it.  

I feel like I could have and should have done more.  I should have been there for him more.  I should have been more persistent in trying to get him help before it was too late.  Now I live with the regret of not being able to do these things.  

What my dad lacked in other places of his life, he made up for in his incredible love for his Grandkids!  My boys will only remember the stories I tell them of their Papa. My oldest was hardly 3 and youngest at the time not even 2.  They see pictures of him and they ask me who he was.  He never got to meet my nephew or my little Colton and that breaks my heart.  

I've had a hard time learning to talk about how I feel and am hoping that putting it all down will make some of the pain go away.  I know that I will always miss him. I just hope that someday I can get past all of the guilt I feel, and can just move on to being able to celebrate his life with my children.