Not written for a while....

My dad passed away 23rd February at 8pm. That'll be why I haven't written for a while.

I've been trying not to write about it here or anywhere as it was all a bit too raw and wouldn't make for happy reading!

This isn't going to be happy reading and is a little self indulgent, I apologise. I feel it's time to talk about things and so I am doing just that :)

Not a day goes by that I don't wish he was still here. Or wish that things were different and he never got ill in the first place. That's not the reality though, so I guess wishing and wanting don't really get us anywhere. It's false, not reality.

At first I was angry, so angry. I have my reasons and it wasn't just because he died. It was the fact that he didn't get the chance to do some of the things he wanted to do. The treatment was supposed to give him a little time to enjoy some life....in the end it was the treatment that killed him. On his death certificate it states he died of Clostridium Difficile (C.Dif) and Pneumonia.
It wasn't even the cancer. He was in remission.

He didn't die naturally. They had to turn off the machines. But then I suppose that is natural in a way as without the machines he wouldn't have been here anyway. Difficult trying to weigh it up in my head.

They discussed with us on the Sunday (22nd) the fact that he wasn't improving and that we should say goodbye, but they would continue to support him and care for him until his body gave up. That didn't happen in the end. We went to see him Monday and they said they were switching everything off because his body was giving up. I asked if he'd be asleep (sedated) when they did it and they said he'd definitely not be aware of what was happening.

We were given about an hour to contact the rest of the family, to say goodbye. In the end there were 16 of us in the small room.

This is so hard to write but I've not spoken about it to anyone, nor even thought about it. It feels too 'big' to deal with. Everytime I think about it I have to block it out, do something, think something else. I know I'm delaying dealing with it and that isn't good but I can't seem to deal with it.

I'm going to try to write it.....it might help.

So, there were 16 of us around him, all said goodbye, kissed him and stood/sat waiting for them to start turning things off. It took approx half an hour for him to go.
The last 10 minutes will stay with me forever.
He woke up.
He knew we were there, yet couldn't speak, like he hadn't for a couple of weeks.
His eyes were wide and he kept trying to move. People were comforting him and saying hello and other things I can't remember.

All I remember is his eyes, so sad but not giving up.
He struggled and tried to sit up.
All I remember thinking is that we're killing him. We're giving up on him. I know that isn't true, I know nothing else could be done.
It was his body that was ruined, not his mind.
I just feel, even now that he didn't want to go. He didn't want to die. I'm angry and upset that I was told he'd be asleep, not aware.....but he was.
I cannot get that out of my head. I can't close my eyes at night without seeing his yellow eyes open, him knowing we were all there, saying goodbye when his mind was ok, he seemed ok, like they'd got it wrong and he'd live afterall.

He died with his eyes open. They didn't close them until we left. I broke down and had a panic attack, couldn't breathe. Got myself together and went outside. Some family came out too. All I got was "You'll have to support your mum now, she needs her family" and "Your poor mum" etc etc. My dad had just died and who cared about how my sisters, brother and me were feeling?

We went back in when they'd taken all the tubes and stuff out and sat with him for a while, not quite believing he'd gone.

I haven't been back to the hospital since. I don't think I could go back there.

I went to see him 4 times, in the funeral home. He didn't look like my dad. But he was dressed in his own clothes, we'd chosen them. I wrote a letter and put it in his pocket.

We had the funeral two weeks after he went. It was going to be on my Birthday on the 3rd March but I said no. Mum was all for it.

It took a lot of arranging, vast sums of money and a bit of arguing. My mum wanted to have it all her way, which maybe we should have let her do but we wanted to help, be a part of it and just do something. I did the music for the church. We had Pachelbels Canon in D to enter, Barbers Adagio for Strings for during and Vivaldi's Four Seasons - Winter to end.

I also did the cards to go on our flowers. And helped with financial stuff and informing companies/people of his death.

It was a beautiful service in a beautiful church and so many people there. I did a reading which was the following:

1 Corinthians 13
The way of love.

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.

And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.

If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude.
It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never ends.

As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away.
For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away.

When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became an adult, I gave up childish ways.
For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.

So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

My dad was a man who was always and will always be loved.

I just about got through it. I don't remember much of speaking it.
I know I didn't look at anyone throughout the whole service, I don't think I could have done it if I'd known how many people were there.

The burial was the hardest. I'd never been to a funeral before so it felt especially hard having to bury my dad, not having any previous 'experience' as such. That sounds funny, saying that!

I've been to the cemetery a lot, since. It's been sunny every time. He's in a lovely place with a beautiful view. He always wanted to be buried there.

Family relations have been strained. I'm taking the brunt of my mums moods. Trying to carry on as normal but it's so hard. Some days I feel guilty for laughing or whatever but I know he wouldn't want us to be sad and unhappy forever.

I have the 'public' persona, the one that is okay and can handle anything, doesn't get down, has a laugh, doesn't care that friends seem to have disappeared, isn't grieving and most of the time, that is me. But there are times when I just want to scream or hide away or just shout at anyone about anything!

Truth is, most days I find it hard even getting out of bed, wondering what the point is. I know things will get better as time goes on but I also know it'll never feel right and there'll always be a dad shaped hole in my life. We've had a few family occasions since dad died and they've been very hard, each one of them. But we get on with it. You have to :)On the whole, in general, I'm okay most of the time (once I'm out of bed :D ).

I have a wobbly moment most days but I remember my dad, think about him, smile and move on.

I'm most disappointed in people in general. They expect you to be over it, buck up, sort yourself out, straight away. Or they don't talk to you as they don't know what to say. 2 months on (nearly) and people still can't talk to me about it or anything really. It's okay for people not knowing what to say, I don't either. It's hurtful though. I'm not feeling sorry for myself. The way I see it is that you can't rely on anyone except yourself. And it's personal pain. I don't expect anyone to understand or know or even care, afterall most of my friends didn't know him. But its the silence or trying to skirt the issue that gets to me. He meant something to me, he still does. Just because he's died, it doesn't mean people should stop speaking about him or tiptoe around it, family included!

Some of my friends have been wonderful, others not so. But I guess that's life and you learn not to get caught up in stupid things like that.

The most surprising thing to me is the kindness of strangers. People I don't know, trying to let a little light into my life. Kind words, thoughts and niceness. I really appreciate it too.

So anyway, I've now learned that the only person I can rely on, is myself :)

And that's that. There's probably tons more I've forgotten about but I think that'll do for today :)

Thank you for sticking with me and if you're one of those strangers I was talking about, thank you, sincerely :)

If you're one of the friends who haven't abandoned me, thank you, from the bottom of my toes :)

Take care,
K :)