Yesterday was my Dad’s funeral…he was diagnosed with stage 4 Lung Cancer in July this year. We were given hope, we were determined that due to his healthy lifestyle and age (67) that he would fight on for many years to come. He died on the 12th of December with me by his side in a hospice he was never happy to be in. I wanted so badly to bring him home, but my mum couldn’t cope with his ever worsening care needs. How do you watch the strongest man you’ve ever known, become so weak he cannot move or speak. I stayed by his side every day, all day, for 2 weeks while he was hospitalised, then 6 days in hospice care before I said goodbye to him for the final time. Death is not peaceful like you see in the movies, not when you desperately don’t want to go, when you are fighting so hard to live. I have pushed myself hard this last 3 weeks to remember his face in happy healthy times, instead of reliving the agonising days/weeks before he died. Some days I can’t accept that he’ll never give me a hug again, share his wisdom with me, put the world to rights. He had just retired after 32 years in the Ambulance Service, retired into illness and pain. He still bought himself a brand new car, and a brand new caravan with his savings, preparing for an amazing retirement with mum. Now she’s a lost, lonely soul, facing the rest of her life without her best friend. We had a beautiful service funeral, a huge turn out, and my heart was bursting with pride listening to my dads accomplishments over the years, how much he loved us and how very loved he was. I am so thankful I got to know and love him for 34 years and yet so broken inside knowning he’s missing out on a retirement he was so excited for and time with his family we’ll all never get. I was doing okey a few days before his funeral. Starting to eat again after losing so much weight, starting to remember the good times and smile through the constant tears, but today, the day after my Dad’s funeral, I am once again unable to function. I’ve come here because I know so sadly, all of you understand the agony. The agony of the finality that is death. I want to keep making my dad proud, and live a great life for him, in honour of him. I want to take care of mum for him, make sure she finds some peace and happiness with the rest of her own life, but im so fearful that she will never feel joy again. The future was so clear and so beautiful before Dad died, now it’s just full of uncertainty, pain, sorrow and so many firsts that will break us all over again. Dad I miss you so much, so, so much. We are completely lost without you, but we will find our way 
If anyone can help me with ways to look after mum and help her with her grief whilst navigating mine, I would be so thankful and greatful 
I feel sick all the time, but just knowing there’s others out there that understand, helps even just a little. I feel so sad of all you, knowning the agony you all experience and my heart is with you all
I wish we could bring them back, even just for a moment, for a cuddle and to be reassured that they are okey. I have been struggling a lot through these weeks with my mental health, with feeling of guilt, so many tears and getting through Xmas/New year. It’s horrendous but I keep pushing forward. I don’t know when I’ll he ready to enter the real work again when my bed and sitting infront of the fire for hours on end seem like a much better idea. Xx
I wish I could stop thinking about the pain he was in at the end, and how sad he was to leave us. He knew how broken we would be when he left, and he never excepted that he was dying. Im so, so proud of him for putting up the fight he did, but I’m so sad that we never really spoke about what was happening. We were trying to protect each other from the devastating truth. I want so badly now to get up and get going and make him proud, but I’m stuck in such debilitating sadness and loss. When will it ever get better? 
Xx