I cannot be held responsible for the following outpour.
My father died this sunday past. And very quickly. I get a call last thursday stating that he was in the VA hospital, and that he seemed to have a seizure and was very incoherent. Something about high levels of protien. I was slightly alarmed at that point, because I was never really notified when it came to my father's stay in the hospital. He has been battling hodgkins lymphoma for the past oh 7-8 years. Seizures like this were normally due to chemotherapy treatments and the drugs he was taking to help him recover. So in the beginning I went from slightly alarmed to "oh."
Come.. whatever the day was I recieve more phonecalls. Apparently he named me and my sister the sole deciders when it came to the point that he could no longer make decisions about his medical treatment. Im sure there is a word for this. I fought them very hard to leave Krystin out of this sort of thing because she is very emotional and sensitive when it comes to my father, and I knew and know now that she is unable to handle things like this. Was this a good thing? because then I became the first point of contact. Anyhow, they told me that things werent good at all, the MRI and tests shown that the cancer has spread, surrounding his heart, liver, lungs.. everywhere and that he had only a few days left, at that. And here is where MY mistake came in, because rather than tell Krystin this, I let her continue moving her things to her new apartment and when she got back home to my moms I would sit down and tell her the details. Then I had to track my brother down in West Virginia to tell him that he needs to come home.
You would think this is plenty of time to get everyone together so that they could do what it is they wanted to do as far as goodbyes go. But it wasnt. I didnt move fast enough, banking on the fact that several years ago he recieved the same prognosis from the doctor and he recovered from that. Maybe I thought he would hang on a little longer than a few days. No Sunday morning a very soft voiced nurse told me that if we were coming, we better leave now. and in the middle of trying to find someone to watch my son, he passed away.
I think my sister is never going to forgive me for this.
So now... the funeral is tomorrow and it is the absolute barest minimum of a service. If it was really up to me Id cremete him and stick him in a fucking paper cup. He left NOTHING. no insurance, no will. NOTHING. so, being the next of kin guess who gets stuck with the bill?
Talk about a quick learning experience. I knew dying was a lot of money, but the minute details no one ever knows till they have to do something like this. $200 to put in the obituary??? $900 to dig a fucking hole in the ground, $800 for a vault, and $600 to fill it back in. Thank CHRIST my dad was a Vet, they are going to cover the burial. The Funeral home has yet to hand me the all said and done bill for the casket and viewing hours and the time it took for the mortician to take a shit. Im so angry, and no one will know why. I cant let this show to my sisters and brothers, who are so blindsided by this whole thing, my emotions. I look at my son, who the man never made the effort to know. Do you know how fucking rediculous the prices are for a couple of fucking flowers?!? THEY ROT FOR FUCKS SAKE! The florist said it would cost $1300 for the typical arrangement. the barest typical arrangement at that! I cant do this. The asshole, I cant pull this money from a fucking tree.
So as in life, my dad kicked me one last time in the ass at death. "So long sucker!"
And the thing that pisses me off even more are the memories. I try to at least, dig for the very small amounts of good ones. But all I get right now are the many thousands of times my dad beat the shit out of me, all the verbal abuse. and the sad thing is, that a love for your fucking parent is unconditional. because in the very very small parts of me I cry for the man, and when I see him I hope if anything to see peace on his face.
What am I going to do? Im so short tempered that I feel bad for being that way. Auron, my love, is the most mischivious of babies and I scream at him. I cant do this. so I scream at him and then snuggle him. He must think Im a fucking lunatic.
I have to go clean out his shit, the rental company said I only have a few days because "He didnt pay his rent." HES DEAD YOU STUPID CUNT. and then heh, and then she says she would need a certificate of his death to release him from his lease. how about no, and have fun with hunting him down.
Oh and on top of the 3 paid days I get from work, I have to take additional days unpaid because there just isnt enough hours in the day for me to take care of all this.
And why not, might as well throw in the fact that my moms pissed as hell also that I am "laying all this at her feet."
Your right everyone, its all my fault.
Come.. whatever the day was I recieve more phonecalls. Apparently he named me and my sister the sole deciders when it came to the point that he could no longer make decisions about his medical treatment. Im sure there is a word for this. I fought them very hard to leave Krystin out of this sort of thing because she is very emotional and sensitive when it comes to my father, and I knew and know now that she is unable to handle things like this. Was this a good thing? because then I became the first point of contact. Anyhow, they told me that things werent good at all, the MRI and tests shown that the cancer has spread, surrounding his heart, liver, lungs.. everywhere and that he had only a few days left, at that. And here is where MY mistake came in, because rather than tell Krystin this, I let her continue moving her things to her new apartment and when she got back home to my moms I would sit down and tell her the details. Then I had to track my brother down in West Virginia to tell him that he needs to come home.
You would think this is plenty of time to get everyone together so that they could do what it is they wanted to do as far as goodbyes go. But it wasnt. I didnt move fast enough, banking on the fact that several years ago he recieved the same prognosis from the doctor and he recovered from that. Maybe I thought he would hang on a little longer than a few days. No Sunday morning a very soft voiced nurse told me that if we were coming, we better leave now. and in the middle of trying to find someone to watch my son, he passed away.
I think my sister is never going to forgive me for this.
So now... the funeral is tomorrow and it is the absolute barest minimum of a service. If it was really up to me Id cremete him and stick him in a fucking paper cup. He left NOTHING. no insurance, no will. NOTHING. so, being the next of kin guess who gets stuck with the bill?
Talk about a quick learning experience. I knew dying was a lot of money, but the minute details no one ever knows till they have to do something like this. $200 to put in the obituary??? $900 to dig a fucking hole in the ground, $800 for a vault, and $600 to fill it back in. Thank CHRIST my dad was a Vet, they are going to cover the burial. The Funeral home has yet to hand me the all said and done bill for the casket and viewing hours and the time it took for the mortician to take a shit. Im so angry, and no one will know why. I cant let this show to my sisters and brothers, who are so blindsided by this whole thing, my emotions. I look at my son, who the man never made the effort to know. Do you know how fucking rediculous the prices are for a couple of fucking flowers?!? THEY ROT FOR FUCKS SAKE! The florist said it would cost $1300 for the typical arrangement. the barest typical arrangement at that! I cant do this. The asshole, I cant pull this money from a fucking tree.
So as in life, my dad kicked me one last time in the ass at death. "So long sucker!"
And the thing that pisses me off even more are the memories. I try to at least, dig for the very small amounts of good ones. But all I get right now are the many thousands of times my dad beat the shit out of me, all the verbal abuse. and the sad thing is, that a love for your fucking parent is unconditional. because in the very very small parts of me I cry for the man, and when I see him I hope if anything to see peace on his face.
What am I going to do? Im so short tempered that I feel bad for being that way. Auron, my love, is the most mischivious of babies and I scream at him. I cant do this. so I scream at him and then snuggle him. He must think Im a fucking lunatic.
I have to go clean out his shit, the rental company said I only have a few days because "He didnt pay his rent." HES DEAD YOU STUPID CUNT. and then heh, and then she says she would need a certificate of his death to release him from his lease. how about no, and have fun with hunting him down.
Oh and on top of the 3 paid days I get from work, I have to take additional days unpaid because there just isnt enough hours in the day for me to take care of all this.
And why not, might as well throw in the fact that my moms pissed as hell also that I am "laying all this at her feet."
Your right everyone, its all my fault.