R.I.P. Papa
My dad passed away last night. He went really fast. I don't think he suffered much, so I'm grateful for that.
He was in pretty good health for his age (he was 63), but he hadn't been feeling well. Complained of stomach problems/gas since Thursday. Called out of work on Friday and shuffled around the house all lethargic and looking and sounding like he had the wind knocked out of him. My brother and I asked if he wanted to go to the hospital, but he wouldn't hear of it. He kept saying i'mfinei'mfinei'mfine. Last night, I was up in my room and my brother was downstairs. He heard my dad fall, and called 911. Police, first aid squad, and paramedics came right away. I saw him and he looked like he was out. I didn't think he was breathing and I was scared. They did CPR on him, but it was too late. They told us that he passed.
My brother keeps blaming himself saying he should have taken his butt to the hospital. But we all know how my dad is. I told him and my sister told him that it wasn't his fault and that there was nothing to be done, especially knowing his stubbornness. But when I went to bed and started thinking about it, I started to think about why I didn't just say let's go to the hospital because he would have listened to his kids. I'm trying to listen to my own words, but I feel guilty anyway. I tried to go to sleep after we talked to the police and funeral home people, called my mom, whatever relatives needed to know right away. I didn't want to turn the light off in my room. It freaked me out too much to be in complete darkness. And I also can't get the image of my dad lying on the floor out of my head.
My mom was in London for the weekend. She was due to fly back to Copenhagen this morning. They'd just been waking up and getting ready to go to the airport when she called us back. I had to tell her. I just blurted it out. And I did it stupidly. But I didn't know how else to tell her. I can't get her crying out of my head. She just called me from the airport. Their flight's been delayed. She didn't want to fly directly home from London. She did call the Copenhagen office though and they're making arrangements for her over there. She'll get to Copenhagen in just enough time to go home, pack some more things and then get on the next flight home.
We called a bunch of relatives, mostly in the Philippines. They are as shocked as we are. Out of his siblings, my dad doesn't smoke, drink, or do drugs and yet, he went earlier than his other brothers who did those things. He had a younger brother who died of a stroke and also didn't do any of those things. Weird.
I don't know what else to say. I'm kind of numb. I don't think it's hit me just yet. I don't know when it will.
He was in pretty good health for his age (he was 63), but he hadn't been feeling well. Complained of stomach problems/gas since Thursday. Called out of work on Friday and shuffled around the house all lethargic and looking and sounding like he had the wind knocked out of him. My brother and I asked if he wanted to go to the hospital, but he wouldn't hear of it. He kept saying i'mfinei'mfinei'mfine. Last night, I was up in my room and my brother was downstairs. He heard my dad fall, and called 911. Police, first aid squad, and paramedics came right away. I saw him and he looked like he was out. I didn't think he was breathing and I was scared. They did CPR on him, but it was too late. They told us that he passed.
My brother keeps blaming himself saying he should have taken his butt to the hospital. But we all know how my dad is. I told him and my sister told him that it wasn't his fault and that there was nothing to be done, especially knowing his stubbornness. But when I went to bed and started thinking about it, I started to think about why I didn't just say let's go to the hospital because he would have listened to his kids. I'm trying to listen to my own words, but I feel guilty anyway. I tried to go to sleep after we talked to the police and funeral home people, called my mom, whatever relatives needed to know right away. I didn't want to turn the light off in my room. It freaked me out too much to be in complete darkness. And I also can't get the image of my dad lying on the floor out of my head.
My mom was in London for the weekend. She was due to fly back to Copenhagen this morning. They'd just been waking up and getting ready to go to the airport when she called us back. I had to tell her. I just blurted it out. And I did it stupidly. But I didn't know how else to tell her. I can't get her crying out of my head. She just called me from the airport. Their flight's been delayed. She didn't want to fly directly home from London. She did call the Copenhagen office though and they're making arrangements for her over there. She'll get to Copenhagen in just enough time to go home, pack some more things and then get on the next flight home.
We called a bunch of relatives, mostly in the Philippines. They are as shocked as we are. Out of his siblings, my dad doesn't smoke, drink, or do drugs and yet, he went earlier than his other brothers who did those things. He had a younger brother who died of a stroke and also didn't do any of those things. Weird.
I don't know what else to say. I'm kind of numb. I don't think it's hit me just yet. I don't know when it will.