It's taken me a while to think about how to write about this.
A few months actually.
The day after I posted about my father being in the ICU, he took a turn for the worse. My brother and I had talks with all his doctors on what his chances of recovery were.
If we removed all the life support.
The vent.
The drugs.
The dialysis.
What were his chances.
He would die is what they said.
The brain scan had come back. It was not good. He had little brain function.
On Saturday the 7th, when my husband, my brother and I arrived he had already gotten worse.
Much worse.
He was having seizures. It appeared that he had stroked at some point because he was bleeding from his ear.
We talked and made the hard choice to end life support.
Actually since my dad had made me his medical power of attorney I had to make the choice and sign off.
It was not something I took lightly or did flippantly.
The man that lay in that hospital bed was not my daddy. I think he had already left his body when he coded that Tuesday morning.
I'm trying not to cry as I write this. I broke down that Saturday when I came in and saw him having seizure after seizure. Seeing him bleeding from his ear, looking jaundice. Seeing and hearing his breathing sound like a rattle.
After I signed off. they removed the vent, the IVs, and cleaned him up some more.
My husband refused to leave his side. Saying he didn't want him to be alone when he finally went.
My brother, his wife and I took turns until we knew it was his last moments. Other family members came in and said their final good byes to him.
Telling him to go rest.
Go be with Helen, my mom and his 1st wife.
He left this world at 4:30 PM. Or as my brother and I said. time for a coffee break.
I still have moments when I forget he's gone.
Where I find myself saying "gotta give Daddy a call."
He was only 69 years old. Much too young in my opinion.
His last words to me were on Monday July 2nd after he had his surgery.
He said "Love you girl. You girls drive home safe."
I'm angry that he is gone and he and my brother didn't have a chance to make peace.
Angry that my brother didn't get that chance to speak to him.
Angry that a family member caused that rift between father and son by lying and being deceitful and feels no guilt nor shame in it.
Angry that my father is gone. We had just began fixing our relationship with each other.
I just wish he was still here.