A little over a month ago my dad had a stroke, things were getting better then all the sudden they weren’t. He went into congestive heart failure and was building up water. They moved him to the cardiac unit because in the rehab unit they can’t really give him IV drugs to combat that water buildup. After about a week in the cardiac unit I called my mom to see how things were going, she told me she thought I should come over as soon as possible. I’d been out shopping, thinking things were just holding steady, they weren’t. I got to the hospital and my dad informed me he was done, he was tired and he no longer wanted any treatments, he just wanted to die. I was sad but I also didn’t blame him. We called my brother, who was on the slope at the time, he started the process of getting home, we just hoped it’d be in time. During the time between when we stopped treatment and my brother got back, my dad asked me several times to kill him, that request will probably haunt me forever. I tried explaining that I couldn’t, that it’s illegal, that it’s not something he’d want me to do, but he just got angry and turned away from me.
My brother got back and barged in and insisted my dad reconsider, told him it was ok if he’d changed his mind. Shortly after that conversation, the doctor came to talk to us, he told us there was no getting better for my dad, it was just making him comfortable until he passed. They’d tried every drug combination possible to fix his congestive heart failure, but none of them worked, his heart was just too weak. I guess my brother accepted that, we did take the doctors recommendation and put him on a morphine pump to make him more comfortable. I never saw my dad conscious again after they put him on that pump. There’s so much I wish I had the guts to say before that, that I’ll never have the chance to say now. My dad died on March 31, 2015, I don’t know exactly what time, but it was around 7pm. I didn’t want to ever watch someone die, I can’t get the image out of my head, but I wouldn’t have wanted to not be there either. I don’t want to remember my mom crying, saying she just wasn’t ready to let him go, or the stone cold look on my brother’s face, but it’s all there in my head, forever. I wanted to be a coward, to run and hide and deny it was happening and when it was done, I just wanted to go home and sleep forever. My mom made me call my fiance’ and he came home, but I really just wanted to be alone.
My dad was pretty modest, he didn’t want a funeral, he and my mom both want to be cremated and thier ashes spread back in Gakona, where they had built thier home and lived the majority of thier life. So that’s what we did, the three of us took him up there and spread his ashes. A handful of people from the community showed up, people I haven’t seen in probably 10-15 years. I’m not surprised though, there wasn’t anyone who met my dad that he didn’t ultimately end up being friends with. And a lot of those people in the community had been helped out by my dad in some way. The things my dad did in life were really amazing, from being a hunting guide, to building his own cabin in the middle of the wilderness so marrying my mom and them building a home in Gakona out of basically nothing. I guess having known him for so long I take for granted these things aren’t just things “normal” people do, he was an extraordinary man and did amazing things that touched many people’s lives.
So now he’s gone, his ashes have been spread, and I just feel numb, or at least until recently I’ve just felt numb. Tuesday I spent the day sobbing and angry, to the point that I called in sick to work. At night I’m kinda prone to break down and cry, especially when I’m alone which is a lot now that my fiance’ has a different job working nights. I also get VERY angry. My friend broke her ankle the other day, 87 people offered to help, my dad died, 28 people said something about it, and some of the people who I thought I was the closest to, never said a word. I guess finding out that I really don’t have any friends and I’m really that alone in the world hurts, a lot. To top everything off my ex-best friend, who hasn’t spoken to me since October, finally un-friended me on Facebook. Am I surprised? not really, am I hurt, I’m not even sure, It’s just weird. It’s like everything in the past year has changed so much that I no longer know what life is really supposed to look like. I’m not sure if I will feel like this forever, I hope not because I feel like I’m a mix between heartless and insane most the time.
My fiance’ has been going a bit insane lately too, staying out late after work, not answering phone calls, not answering texts. I don’t know what’s up with him and I feel like it’s all my fault. I want to ask him what he’d think if I just didn’t come home from work one day, didn’t answer my phone, didn’t answer my texts, then rolled in 4-5 hours later acting like it was no big thing. I actually went out looking for him last Saturday night, he laughed at me, which just made me angrier. He said maybe the solution is him moving out, but I don’t want that, but I also can’t live wondering. Why is it so hard to pick up a phone? Why is it so hard to tell me he’s ok? Or do I just not matter enough to bother?
I’m angry a lot and maybe that’s wrong… I was going to write a post on the things I wished I had said to my father before he died, I think I’ll save that for later because I’m already weepy.