Sorry for the silence of late. It has been an utter whirlwind of a few weeks for me. I don't even know where to begin, really.
Well, there is a court thing to do with my past that I can't go into publicly but that was due to happen in December and has now been postponed until summer. That had me stressed beyond belief thinking that I may not be around for Christmas and my Dad just wanting to know what we were planning to do for the holidays.
As it turned out, I was here, I was present and I was prepared. We didn't do gifts but we did a gorgeous dinner on Christmas day with my Dad, my fiancé Steve and I. I had done all my food prep in the days leading up to Christmas so dinner itself was stress free and easy. We had a gorgeous day with Dad. He had been suffering some ill health recently, but nothing too urgently worrying. He'd been in and out of hospital with breathing difficulties for 2 months or so. But on Christmas day, he was well. We laughed, watched films, enjoyed a gorgeous meal and took pictures together. Dad had given me a gift card to get myself something from Pandora. When we were getting ready to go, I gave him a hug and a kiss, something I rarely did. It was perfect.
And then at 5.30 am on Boxing Day, I got a phone call from the carers at his building, he'd been taken to hospital by ambulance during the night, struggling to breathe. We didn't think too much of it, and decided to wait until 9am and ring hospital to see how he was. at 6.30am we got a call from A&E asking if we'd come in for a chat as they needed some background info but Dad was confused and a bit out of it, as was always the case the first day after he got taken in. The doctors spoke to us but no urgency was expressed, nothing unusual. Dad didn't even know we were there. We were told they were moving him to a ward so we could go home and visit the next day, as he was stable.
Fast forward to am on December 27th and the phone rang. I was already awake as I always found it hard to sleep with Dad in hospital. It was a Sister on the ward saying that Dad had deteriorated and that we should call the family and come in asap. There was no one to call, it's just me and Steve, so we set off. We arrived within 10 minutes and were taken to a Quiet room to wait for the sister. My heart was pounding and I felt sick. I was shaking and my mind was racing.
The sister came in and told us that Dad had passed away suddenly just before she rang me, around 6am. He had simply stopped breathing. No struggle, no pain. He just stopped. I didn't cry. I just thanked her and asked if we could see him. I gave my lovely Dad one last kiss and said goodbye. We left in a daze. I couldn't even let anyone know as it was barely 7am. We went straight to his building and notified the care manager and those few people who were around. Everyone was shocked as he'd seemed so well Christmas eve and Christmas Day.
The following 2 weeks were a blur of phone calls, appointments, questions, stress, trying to find money that wasn't available, sorting, organising. It's been horrid, scary and sad. I'd already been through this once, when my Mum passed away in 2010, but this was different. This meant I was an orphan now. No parents to check up on me, no grown ups to talk to. I was left alone. Dad didn't want a funeral but I held a Celebration of Life Service at his building. It was lovely. We shared stories, laughed, cried, listened to music and just enjoyed being together.
We have now emptied his flat and handed back the keys. This in itself feels really weird, as every day for the past year, I have been volunteering in the restaurant of his building and always went up to the flat for a brew and a chat before I started work. Now, we don't have that. I'm just staff, not family, not an honorary resident. We have no privileges or rights to be in the building. It's weird and very sad.
So, today we start our new normal. I'm not ready. I want my Dad to come squeaking into the restaurant on his huge mobility scooter and boss me around like I was there just to serve him. I want him to annoy me and make me angry. I miss him, it's too quiet there and it's not right that I have no one to worry about anymore. He was the greatest cause of stress in my life, the one who could push my buttons the easiest and I'd give anything to have him back...
Well, there is a court thing to do with my past that I can't go into publicly but that was due to happen in December and has now been postponed until summer. That had me stressed beyond belief thinking that I may not be around for Christmas and my Dad just wanting to know what we were planning to do for the holidays.
As it turned out, I was here, I was present and I was prepared. We didn't do gifts but we did a gorgeous dinner on Christmas day with my Dad, my fiancé Steve and I. I had done all my food prep in the days leading up to Christmas so dinner itself was stress free and easy. We had a gorgeous day with Dad. He had been suffering some ill health recently, but nothing too urgently worrying. He'd been in and out of hospital with breathing difficulties for 2 months or so. But on Christmas day, he was well. We laughed, watched films, enjoyed a gorgeous meal and took pictures together. Dad had given me a gift card to get myself something from Pandora. When we were getting ready to go, I gave him a hug and a kiss, something I rarely did. It was perfect.
And then at 5.30 am on Boxing Day, I got a phone call from the carers at his building, he'd been taken to hospital by ambulance during the night, struggling to breathe. We didn't think too much of it, and decided to wait until 9am and ring hospital to see how he was. at 6.30am we got a call from A&E asking if we'd come in for a chat as they needed some background info but Dad was confused and a bit out of it, as was always the case the first day after he got taken in. The doctors spoke to us but no urgency was expressed, nothing unusual. Dad didn't even know we were there. We were told they were moving him to a ward so we could go home and visit the next day, as he was stable.
Fast forward to am on December 27th and the phone rang. I was already awake as I always found it hard to sleep with Dad in hospital. It was a Sister on the ward saying that Dad had deteriorated and that we should call the family and come in asap. There was no one to call, it's just me and Steve, so we set off. We arrived within 10 minutes and were taken to a Quiet room to wait for the sister. My heart was pounding and I felt sick. I was shaking and my mind was racing.
The sister came in and told us that Dad had passed away suddenly just before she rang me, around 6am. He had simply stopped breathing. No struggle, no pain. He just stopped. I didn't cry. I just thanked her and asked if we could see him. I gave my lovely Dad one last kiss and said goodbye. We left in a daze. I couldn't even let anyone know as it was barely 7am. We went straight to his building and notified the care manager and those few people who were around. Everyone was shocked as he'd seemed so well Christmas eve and Christmas Day.
The following 2 weeks were a blur of phone calls, appointments, questions, stress, trying to find money that wasn't available, sorting, organising. It's been horrid, scary and sad. I'd already been through this once, when my Mum passed away in 2010, but this was different. This meant I was an orphan now. No parents to check up on me, no grown ups to talk to. I was left alone. Dad didn't want a funeral but I held a Celebration of Life Service at his building. It was lovely. We shared stories, laughed, cried, listened to music and just enjoyed being together.
We have now emptied his flat and handed back the keys. This in itself feels really weird, as every day for the past year, I have been volunteering in the restaurant of his building and always went up to the flat for a brew and a chat before I started work. Now, we don't have that. I'm just staff, not family, not an honorary resident. We have no privileges or rights to be in the building. It's weird and very sad.
So, today we start our new normal. I'm not ready. I want my Dad to come squeaking into the restaurant on his huge mobility scooter and boss me around like I was there just to serve him. I want him to annoy me and make me angry. I miss him, it's too quiet there and it's not right that I have no one to worry about anymore. He was the greatest cause of stress in my life, the one who could push my buttons the easiest and I'd give anything to have him back...
So sorry Trish, I hope you can gain comfort from the wonderful memories you have. Don't cry because he has gone, smile because he lived.... love you, take care xx
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed reading this. Thanks Trish. Love you.
ReplyDelete