My Dad was my idol, the man i looked up to, the person i always wanted to be. I knew who and what he was his imperfections, flaws and failings. But… i also remember and love all the great things about him. The generosity, the love, the great memories, the strength and the courage.
My dad passed away last May, he was ill over a number of years. It all started 10 years ago when he got Pancreatitis which nearly killed him and caused him to become a diabetic.
The years went by and over the last 3-4 years he got progressively worse. I wont bore anyone with the ins and outs but in the end he lost over 50% of his body weight. And his official cause of death was double pneumonia, thrombosis of the portal vein and psoriasis of the liver.
It was a slow steady decline over that period, constantly in and out of hospital in that time, various operations, procedures and treatments including very experimental treatments. But unfortunately my dad the strongest man i knew lost his fight.
I find it so hard in so many different ways, he was the centre of our family, the rock we leaned on and the one that kept us together and looked after us. And watching him slowly die and being there when it happened has hit me harder than i ever could of imagined, when i knew it was headed in the worst possible direction i deluded myself into thinking i had prepared myself for it. But i was very very naive and wrong to believe that was even possible.
My dad in the end, had lost so much and was struggling mentally, emotionally as well as physically.
A few days before he passed we had taken him back into hospital and an intensive care doctor had come to see my dad and spoke to us about our options, one was radical and would likely do more damage than good and would likely kill my dad and the other was unlikely to work.
He asked about resuscitation which my dad shook his head to.
My dad said something to me after the doctor gave this news that i will never forget. He was sat on the edge of the bed and me next to him and he said to me. ‘Maybe it would just be better if i went home and drifted away’ i touched his hand and told him that if he couldn’t fight it anymore and he’d had enough then none of us would ask him to stay. And this is the moment i regret and begrudge myself for because in this crucial moment i couldn’t keep myself composed myself and i ended up breaking down and crying realising i was about to lose my father and this is the moment that tells me everything i ever needed to know about my dad.
In that moment, he’d been told he’d very likely pass away. And in that moment he must of been scared and worried and he found it in himself to comfort me. He held my hand and told me everything would be okay.
The truth is it isn’t losing my dad has left me feeling lost, alone, adrift despite all the loving people around me.
He was everything to me and i don’t know how i go forward from here.
Im currently on anti depressants and awaiting on my first session of group bereavement therapy.
Id love some advice or anyone whose experienced anything similar what they have done to deal with this pain.
Apologies for the long post.