A rant about my own personal grief...
Since my Dad's brother passed away and I still have issues with
my own Dad's death I might as well just vent the grief off now
and just reflect on my Dad's while i'm at it to prevent blow ups
plus just to get shit off my chest. My dad died a decade ago back
in November 2007. It wasn't a pleasant sight to see him waste away
nor was the last days pleasant. I can't imagine how he felt but I take
comfort in the fact he was probably so doped up on Morphine and
ativan he probably didn't know what was going on or felt much atleast
I hope anyway. In life comes death and everyone eventually deals with it
and faces it themselves. Some people can handle it in a healthy manner
while others like myself not so much.
When Shaun and I was dating Dad's breathing got worse and he went to
the ER for pain and breathing problems. They do Xrays and such and he
was diagnosed with Lung Cancer which over the next few weeks we would
find out it was stage 4 and he only had months if that to live. I was going to
Mental health and group therapy at the time so had some outlet to express
worries but i sort of started shutting down trying to cope. I thought maybe
he could beat this and was in denial. I had bouts of anger as well that he refused
to go to a doctor for years and just mad at the world. He was sent home with
an Oxygen tank and put on a walker. It wasn't long after he was rushed back to
ER shaking and out of it. My Aunt and Uncle came as did we. I held my Dad's
hands for the longest time confused, scared and not sure how to feel. I didn't
know what was going on and it was right in front of me. Denial you got to love
it. Poor Dad. He was placed in Hospice. One day my half sisters were there and
Uncle Jim took us to lunch at the Elm Street Cafe and discussed things. After
that over the weeks between going to mental health, dating Shaun and visiting
Dad the day's went on. Shaun was my rock at the time which helped alot.
When it got closer to his death he had lost a whole lot of weight and was nothing
but skin and bones. When I wasn't there mom was with him. Shaun and I did
manage to get his permission to marry before he died because I somehow knew
despite issues with denial he wasn't going to be able to make it there in person.
I ended up taking a picture of him to the wedding which was probably weird but
it's how I coped. His last days he wasted to nothing but bones and he lost memory
either the Cancer spread to the brain like it did other parts of his body or the
medication made him lose memory. I'm not sure. He didn't know who i was and
kept saying my mom's name. I won't like that was like a kick to the nuts if I had
nuts but I also know it's not his fault. I also visited several times a day instead of
hours at a time due to anxiety attacks so i feel guilty about that but it is what it is.
His last day he kept pulling his sheets off and clothes so I got an eyeful and he was
basically just a skeleton and he kept yelling help me help me which kept going to the
nurses station for that because i was confused and didn't know what to do. I also felt
so helpless and hated knowing there wasn't a damn thing I could do but watch this.
That is what kills me with guilt is the feeling of powerlessness and lack of control as
well as not knowing what was going to happen next.
The day he died Shaun and I were on our way to visit him from Cuba and were
driving back to Canton from Shaun's parent's house. We arrive there at the hospital
and are told he died fifteen minutes earlier and they were trying to call us. I stood
there shocked and floored. My reaction was just shock. No tears just shock. The tears
would come later but i'll admit i didn't know how to act and didn't think this was real.
Shaun hugged me though. Mom comes to the hospital and some cousins the Pasley's
came and offered support. I thank them for that by the way. Mom and I spend some
time with the body I said a prayer and then watched the funeral home take away his
body. MY Aunt and Uncle offered the best advice and helped me with his obituary
and with the funeral home. My cousin in Tennessee helped me get him buried next
to his parents at the plot. I didn't have money to bury him so he was cremated and his
urn was at our apartment for a while. Since Dad liked to watch tv had his urn on a stand
facing the TV. Over months mentally i didn't cope well I did have breakdowns, cried,
had anger fits and withdrew from all family as well as had alot of anger over his death.
I had nightmares for a year or so and didn't deal with it good. Shaun helped me alot
which I will never forget despite of our current problems credit him for that. I also
got into railfanning which distracted my mind from some of that and snapped out of it.
I got in touch with family years later though I still have mental issues going and withdraw
alot still. I am not a perfect person and very flawed with alot of mental and emotional
baggage and i own up to it. I wish I dealt with things better but it is what it is.
I do hope Dad doesn't hate me for how I handled things or my mental shit. I tried
to deal with it the best I could mentally. I hope he knows I love him if there is an
after life. I know grief everyone experiences so if you are it gets better over time
but you will never forget and you will find ties that are hard no matter how long it's
been. I still struggle and it's been a decade.
my own Dad's death I might as well just vent the grief off now
and just reflect on my Dad's while i'm at it to prevent blow ups
plus just to get shit off my chest. My dad died a decade ago back
in November 2007. It wasn't a pleasant sight to see him waste away
nor was the last days pleasant. I can't imagine how he felt but I take
comfort in the fact he was probably so doped up on Morphine and
ativan he probably didn't know what was going on or felt much atleast
I hope anyway. In life comes death and everyone eventually deals with it
and faces it themselves. Some people can handle it in a healthy manner
while others like myself not so much.
When Shaun and I was dating Dad's breathing got worse and he went to
the ER for pain and breathing problems. They do Xrays and such and he
was diagnosed with Lung Cancer which over the next few weeks we would
find out it was stage 4 and he only had months if that to live. I was going to
Mental health and group therapy at the time so had some outlet to express
worries but i sort of started shutting down trying to cope. I thought maybe
he could beat this and was in denial. I had bouts of anger as well that he refused
to go to a doctor for years and just mad at the world. He was sent home with
an Oxygen tank and put on a walker. It wasn't long after he was rushed back to
ER shaking and out of it. My Aunt and Uncle came as did we. I held my Dad's
hands for the longest time confused, scared and not sure how to feel. I didn't
know what was going on and it was right in front of me. Denial you got to love
it. Poor Dad. He was placed in Hospice. One day my half sisters were there and
Uncle Jim took us to lunch at the Elm Street Cafe and discussed things. After
that over the weeks between going to mental health, dating Shaun and visiting
Dad the day's went on. Shaun was my rock at the time which helped alot.
When it got closer to his death he had lost a whole lot of weight and was nothing
but skin and bones. When I wasn't there mom was with him. Shaun and I did
manage to get his permission to marry before he died because I somehow knew
despite issues with denial he wasn't going to be able to make it there in person.
I ended up taking a picture of him to the wedding which was probably weird but
it's how I coped. His last days he wasted to nothing but bones and he lost memory
either the Cancer spread to the brain like it did other parts of his body or the
medication made him lose memory. I'm not sure. He didn't know who i was and
kept saying my mom's name. I won't like that was like a kick to the nuts if I had
nuts but I also know it's not his fault. I also visited several times a day instead of
hours at a time due to anxiety attacks so i feel guilty about that but it is what it is.
His last day he kept pulling his sheets off and clothes so I got an eyeful and he was
basically just a skeleton and he kept yelling help me help me which kept going to the
nurses station for that because i was confused and didn't know what to do. I also felt
so helpless and hated knowing there wasn't a damn thing I could do but watch this.
That is what kills me with guilt is the feeling of powerlessness and lack of control as
well as not knowing what was going to happen next.
The day he died Shaun and I were on our way to visit him from Cuba and were
driving back to Canton from Shaun's parent's house. We arrive there at the hospital
and are told he died fifteen minutes earlier and they were trying to call us. I stood
there shocked and floored. My reaction was just shock. No tears just shock. The tears
would come later but i'll admit i didn't know how to act and didn't think this was real.
Shaun hugged me though. Mom comes to the hospital and some cousins the Pasley's
came and offered support. I thank them for that by the way. Mom and I spend some
time with the body I said a prayer and then watched the funeral home take away his
body. MY Aunt and Uncle offered the best advice and helped me with his obituary
and with the funeral home. My cousin in Tennessee helped me get him buried next
to his parents at the plot. I didn't have money to bury him so he was cremated and his
urn was at our apartment for a while. Since Dad liked to watch tv had his urn on a stand
facing the TV. Over months mentally i didn't cope well I did have breakdowns, cried,
had anger fits and withdrew from all family as well as had alot of anger over his death.
I had nightmares for a year or so and didn't deal with it good. Shaun helped me alot
which I will never forget despite of our current problems credit him for that. I also
got into railfanning which distracted my mind from some of that and snapped out of it.
I got in touch with family years later though I still have mental issues going and withdraw
alot still. I am not a perfect person and very flawed with alot of mental and emotional
baggage and i own up to it. I wish I dealt with things better but it is what it is.
I do hope Dad doesn't hate me for how I handled things or my mental shit. I tried
to deal with it the best I could mentally. I hope he knows I love him if there is an
after life. I know grief everyone experiences so if you are it gets better over time
but you will never forget and you will find ties that are hard no matter how long it's
been. I still struggle and it's been a decade.
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