It's all so strange. Two weeks ago, I talked to my dad. He was in a home for therapy and was getting ready to be able to go back home. He had been in the hospital and was a little too weak to be able to be home. He was stronger and he was laughing and joking with me. The next day, he was back in the hospital on a respirator. He was still aware of what was going on. He was nodding to us when we asked questions, waving to us when we left the room, even writing notes. Now he is gone. I can't wrap my head around it, I really can't. I was there, I was holding his hand when he died...5:30 p.m. on Monday the 27th of November. My mom was holding his other hand. He had been moved to a hospice immediatley after they pulled the tubes, something we could not understand until the funeral home guy told us that when a person dies in a hospice there is no red tape and it is easier on the family. My mom could tell that he was going and called the nurse, two nurses came into his room and one went to my moms side and the other started to come to mine, but I think my body language and the look on my face told her that I did not want her to come near me. They were very good. They knew what to do and say. My mom was crying, I probably was too but I do not remember. I kissed my dad on his forehead and we left his room. We got in the car and drove away. It is all so strange.
He was a great dad. I could always count on him. Always. No matter what, he never judged. When you were bad or had done something wrong you could tell him. When we broke something, we always ran and got my dad. He would fix it or if he couldn't he would make sure that we never really got into too much trouble over it. Even my cousins knew to get my dad. He was always the go to guy.
I was afraid to get up and go to the bathroom when I was a kid. I always called for him and he always came and got me, no fussing at me for getting him up. When we were sick, we told him, never my mom. When we got hurt, we ran to him.
He read to each of his children every night. We all had our own turn with him. He is the reason that all four of his children are great readers. My mom has read two books in her life, nothing wrong with that, she just hates reading!
He went to every recital, every play, every band event, every thing we did, he showed up for us.
He played games, monopoly, sorry, cards, anything we wanted, even though he really hated playing games, he never really told us that until we were older!
My boy friends were a little afraid of him, which was very funny to me. He never really said anything to them. They would just come to the door and see the silent man sitting in the chair that faced the front door, he was usually reading, but there was something about him that scared them. Perhaps it was the fact that he looked like he could beat the crap out of you, after all he had been a member of a gang when he was young. He was a protector though and if anyone had hurt me, he would have made them very sorry.
I could say so much about him, but I am so worn out. It is hard to watch someone you love die.
I miss you, daddy.