It's been awhile since I have written anything. It probably would have been beneficial and perhaps therapeutic for me to blog about it. So, today's the day I got enough courage to muster up words to express my feelings on the loss of my father. It's been 6 Sundays since I last spoke with him. He had been in the hospital since a few days before the first of the year. He went in for a procedure to hopefully rid him of jaundice. There were complications and he became worse rapidly...it would be almost 2 weeks later his body would stop fighting for his life. Jan. 13, 2010 would forever mark the day of his death.
We got a call he had taken a turn for the worst and got there as soon as it was humanly possible with 4 small children in tow. What was to be a day visit turned into the better part of a week. He was quite critical when we arrived. I went into to see the man that had given me life writhing around in great pain. It was heartbreaking to hear his moans and feel the coldness of his hands. There he was my dad, dying. My mother sat quietly beside him as I entered the special ICU unit at the VA Hospital. She had her hand lovingly in his. I went to speak and she shh-ed me and said simply "pray". I did as tears streamed slowly down my face like raindrops rolling down a windshield. IT seemed surreal. "No, not my dad, no... not daddy..." I thought to myself. He's so young to me at 66, although here I stood trembling beside him at 38.
My dad was such a funny ,vivacious man and the apple didn't fall far from the tree. He was my mentor, my hero, my dad. He was the parent I identified with most and the thought of losing him would make me feel orphaned. I do feel orphaned. My dad was the guy I called who would give me directions when I was lost. Being that he traveled for years as a salesman for his own church furniture business, he knew all the short cuts. I admired him for all that he was. He was the photographer in my home, well until I came around at the age of 8 when I started my passion and obsession for photography. I was all but glued to my camera, falling in the shadows of my father. Who would I call now? Who would take my photo? How can I find my way now that I feel so lost with out him.
My dad was the one who taught me how to catch frogs as a girl and taught me what to look for in a man, a frog prince, as I matured. He passed knowing, or assuming and accepting a certain person into my life. My dad didn't admire many of the men I dated. I think perhaps only a couple whom I both let slip through my fingers...chopped up to being young and foolish. Not even the men I married were truly measurable in his eyes, that is until now. He identified with a certain trait and potential in this person that reminded him of himself, and well who wouldn't love that. My dad was quite lovable and nurturing. He always went above and beyond to see my kids, his grandchildren, had the "coolest" presents for birthdays and Christmases. He'd get them special treats for holiday get togethers ...he was thoughtful, like me. I remember one Christmas he drove all over Eastern North Carolina, town to town, looking for a special item for my son who has Asperger's syndrome. That's the kind of dedication he had for his family, and the kind I am looking for in a lifelong partnership. Who knows if it will ever come to fruition, but it's nice to dream. For some, dreams do turn into realities if enough dedication is forthcoming and both people realise the "rough" gems they have stumbled upon. Life is about shaping and polishing those edges of ourselves which are in need of maintenance. We all have things to work on, even my dad had flaws. After all he was merely human.
Have you ever missed someone so much that it literally hurts? A deep yearning ache and longing for someone that was such a huge part of your life. To lose someone you love be it to death, or unforeseen circumstances is a huge mourning. People so very special that no one could pale in comparison or even hold a candlestick to them. We have such few bright lights in our lives that to have a single one snuffed out is unfathomable. But, it unfortunately happens wheteher we like it or not. Life must go on.I suppose I knew this day would come as it is all of our fates...I just didn't think it would come so soon for my father. My dad's dad lived into his late 80's and his mother in her early 90's. We had just buried her nearly a year prior to dad's dying. It just doesn't seem fair. Of course we know, life isn't fair. It's a gift and we don't know when our number is up. The one thing my dad taught me in recent years is that we can't control anything in our lives except our attitude. He'd say "Darlin' you know I love you, but you have to work on your attitude. It's all we can control in life."I have to repeat that to myself now on a near daily basis.
So in his final hours I sat silently beside him with tears seemingly streaming slowly and steadily from my God given faucet. I held his hand and massaged it to help the blood flow but it was so swollen from all the fluids and cold. A religious song that bared the words "carry me to Jesus" was playing softly in the background. This was it, the last time I'd see my dad alive. Even though it wasn't really living as he was hooked up to full life support at this moment. Everything was failing, all vital organs, it was just a matter of God's timing. I was already feeling a great loss in a couple portions of my life and I didn't know how to handle it. I cracked a joke a couple times, still with teary eyes. Thinking dad would like that. I told him I would care for my mother and brother to the best of my abilities which at this point in my life is just time. I told him I wanted him to fight and come back to us all but that if he was tired of trying to just let go. He had been through so much and so many things for so very long. Again, quite much a parallel to my own life. I wrapped my arm around him and gently kissed him on the forehead. I said "I love you daddy, see you when I see you." and I just sat and cried. My mom came in about 7:30 on Tuesday Jan. 12, 2010 to get me and I left the hospital hallways alone as an adult with 4 boys whom were still ever so sweet and patiently in tow. Someone dropped us of at the hotel and I was so reluctant to stay alone. I didn't want to get the call, and I knew it was coming. But I was solo with my boys, and it was so very sad. I got the boys bathed and in bed and I did the same for myself a little while after that.
I awoke gasping for breath in the middle of the night and felt this weird feeling. I didn't know why I had woken...I just walked around tiptoeing to not wake the boys, pacing...eventually returning to my cold covers and curled up and fell asleep. I learned in the early morning hours that my dad had passed in the same time period I had strangely awoken in the middle of the night. Then the reality of the loss that had been impending for days had finally happened. I had been on edge for days trying to process what was taking place before my very eyes and finding it hard to communicate or convey my emotions to those around me. I was like a bottled up note floating in the vast sea for days on end until someone uncorked it. (this is the part where my dad would march in and say well stacie this is when you become really unscrewed, haha)Ever humorous until the bitter end, that was my dad...and it has to be me too. Finding humor that is, in the most trivial things and in daily living to carry me through the life and the paths God has planned for me.
I love you daddy rabbit and I will miss you always.
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