I posted a chat several weeks ago about my Dad and his worsening dementia.
He was becoming more frail and fell at least once a day. The last fall he had was really bad and he fractured his ribs and punctured his lung. He fought for three weeks, but eventually, after yet another fall in the hospital, we were told there was nothing they could do for him. We got him home and made him as comfortable as we could and he passed away on 22nd January.
The first few days, I think my mind was shut down and everything passed by in a blur.
Christmas Day was hard for me, as was New Years Eve.
I busied myself with organising his funeral with my older sister, as our Mum wasn’t strong enough to face it (they had been together for 50 years).
His funeral came by and I was in a kind of trance for that, as well. I looked around at everyone crying around me and I stared at the floor, not wanting to look at the coffin or the picture on top of it. I couldnt get my head around the fact that my once strong Dad was lying in it and I would never see him again.
In the days after the funeral, I crumbled.
I cried a lot, I got really angry at the smallest of things, I would go for long drives by myself and listen to his mysic. I was reatless and didn’t know where I wanted to be or who I wanted to be with.
Its now been just over a month since my Dad passed away, and every morning when I wake up, it hits me all over again that he’s not here.
I cry most mornings and then I get dressed, go to work and try my best to carry on with normal life, even though inside I want to scream, “My Dads gone! Somebody please bring him back!!”
I know this is all part of the grieving process and I have to go through the emotions and not hide from them, but it’s so hard when the one person who always made me feel better isn’t here anymore and he’s the one person I want the most.
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