This is a blog to go with the previous one I wrote about my father's death.
The first day I was devastated. I felt guilty for not realizing that he did not want to let go on my hand because he knew he was about to die. How could I not know? I thought he was going to get better.
My mother told me afterwards that I had stayed holding him over the hospital bed for three hours. It is true that when these types of things happen, one does not realize how much time is going by. It's like the world freezes. I didn't think I stayed there for more than 40 minutes.
It was hard to go. It felt as though by staying there, I was still with him somehow, but leaving would break that invisible bond to this life. Once I left, we had to call the mortuary services. I wondered about how many people had to call during times where one can barely speak.
Even though it was painful and sad, I knew that it was better for my father to leave. At night, I prayed to dream with him, to tell him goodbye, but I never got the chance. I slept practically all day for two day, it hurt to much to stay awake. The next day I put on his pants, his old shirt, and his blanket, to trigger a dream in which he would appear and tell me how he was doing. I woke up after a deep sleep. I did not remember any dreams, but I knew that something had happened. I felt less stress upon my heart.
I had to move on. I went to school, because I wanted my father to be proud of me. I did not want to fall behind and in the end feel ashamed that I could not bring pride and honor to his name. I was dressed in black. It was weird to look at anyone the same way. I felt as though the world was going round around me, but my world was still. I couldn't tell anyone what had happened. Only one person knew (She had seen me run to the car after my mom called to tell me my father was in the hospital), but I pretended like nothing had happened. One of my friends asked why I was dressed in black. I could only ignore the question. It was weird to explain to her why.
My mind felt at peace, but my body was still in shock. I felt as though I was shaking all over, but I wasn't actually moving that much. It was hard to type, I could barely get any work done. I went on campus, and strangely, I saw two people that I usually don't see. One of them hadn't seen me since last quarter. She wanted to know how I had been, but I couldn't tell her. It was too much to tell. Others asked me if I was ready for my midterm later that day. That was the last thing on my mind. I wasn't going to take it. I had to go home to a church meeting with my mom. They were to tell me what we needed to prepare for the mass next Tuesday.
I did feel weird being at school. Was it too soon to go back to my everyday life? I felt that I should have stayed back at home.
Later on, I thought long and hard, and remembered my prayers to God. I remember that many times, I had asked God to take my father away, if he was only going to be in this world to feel pain. It was better for him to be in heaven than on earth, if pain was all he was feeling by this time.
Now, I am glad he is resting. It is much better for my family and I to take the pain than for him to try to take it any longer. But I regret leaving that day. I wish I had been there until the very last second. I wish I could have held his hand. I don't know when I will stop feeling guilty for not being with him more often, but I am glad that it is my pain and not his.
I love you dad. Rest in peace.
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I can totally relate. My grandfather passed away suddenly a few years ago, and just a few days before Xmas. At the time there was a lot of tension between my mom and her sisters, his duaghters. Sitting around the room with my cousins we kept our eyes on the t.v. because we knew that if either of us looked at our mothers, something would start up. At the funeral my mom couldn't even go into the room, it was an open casket. I had always thought I needed to spend more time with my grandad, seeing as I'd never lived close to them. My grandad knew a lot about the family's heritage, and when he passed away I felt like I lost the answers to question I should have had asked a long time ago. Him, my grandmother and all of their kids, my aunts and uncle, are very religious. Me, on the other hand, I've never been able to go to church for long periods of time. Afterwards, my aunts said they saw him, and I don't think they just thought of him, they SAW him. I felt really guilty, having never really been the good little church girl all of cousins are. I don't drink or smoke, I'm not a slut but I cuss, I use the lord's name in vain, I just never really fit my grandmother's bill. I began to think, maybe he didn't want to see me because of my religious views, which are practically non existant. Once I was content with that reason, I began having these dreams. In the dreams I was at his house, outside near the canal that feeds the farmland around them. It was cold, like it always is over there, and I was alone. I heard words that were read off like a poem, and every verse began with "Would You". I guess I was asking myself, as if I were asking my grandad. Would you bait my hook, and laugh when I wriggled like the worm. Would you tell me you were proud, when you found that cap and gown picture in the mail? Would you tell me the Indian stories, the ones about the great uncle or something or other. On and on it went, until I woke up, oddly calm.
I'm glad someone that can relate read my post. My dad is going to be in an open casket too, I'm scared to see him, because I have already calm my mind and my spirit. To me, he is happy in heaven; I don't want to see his dead body again. In a way, I guess it would be good to give him a final goodbye, but honestly, I would rather this whole process to be over as soon as possible.
I feel for the story about your grandpa and your mom and her sisters. Reminds me of my sister and me. We have never gotten along, and during these times it hurts not to be able to come together as a family, but for some reason there is always tension.
But unlike your family, the trouble with mine is that none of us are very religious. We were supposed to call a priest to let my dad have the sacraments, since we are catholic and all, but we didn't because we didn't know we had to call even if my dad was just sick. The church told afterward that we were supposed to have a priest come every week while he That's another reason to feel bad, but I hope that God gave my dad his own way to prepare.
I watched my mom flatline in the hospital and held her hand and she drifted away. I pretty much slowly watched her die over a course of a year because she was only 47 and I had to take care of her. Walk her to the bathroom all that kind of stuff. I truely understand how painful this is. I waited to start college because I was suppose to start the month my mom died (she died 2 months after I graduated highschool) But I finally started. It is very hard and it is nice to hear your story and find someone who can relate. Most people I tell about this in person say oh that sucks. I am very sorry but try to stay strong and if you ever need anyone to talk to message me.
Something people should know about:
http://www.progressiveu.org/032913-lupus-uncureable-wait-what
I am very sorry about your mother. She was young...
I know, people just don't understand unless it happens to them. It took me a while to tell anyone. I went back to my house at school in my mourning clothes, and one of my friends ask me "Why are you wearing black! It's so hot." I couldn't find a way to tell her, so I just ignored the question and changed the subject. It's not that it was too painful to tell, there is just no way of telling, you know? When I finally told a few close friends, most of them did nothing...the only one that seemed to truly care was one of my house mates....I'm not even close to him, and I hadn't told him about my father, one of my more intimate friends had told him. The first time he saw me again after finding the news, he asked me if I was ok....I smiled and said "yeah." Then he kindly said "I heard about your dad" and gave me a hug. It made me feel so much better to feel that someone who didn't even know my dad actually cared about what happened....so again, I'm sorry about your mom and it is admirable that you chose to go to college instead of giving up. I'll let you know if I need to talk, and you can contact me any time, as well. God Bless.
If you ever need to talk also..I will listen to whatever you would like to say. Just private message me and I'll respond and give the best support I can.