"If I just dreamed...
...somehow you would be here."
One year she said. Or rather they said.
My father will most likely be dead by the end of this week. We are taking him home on Wednesday to die. The entire left side of his body is black where the blood has begun to settle below the skin's surface. He is bleeding from the suture wound in his abdomen as well as from the stomach itself. He is yellow from jaundice brought on by acute liver failure. He hallucinates from the five different types of pain killers they've prescribed and yet none of them seem to help him sleep. He forgot who I was in a moment this afternoon but Lindsey reminded me that yesterday he was saying my name in his sleep.
My father is dying and there is nothing I can do about it.
And today I told him that I'll be in Shakespeare festival this summer...and it took me about an hour to realize that he won't be alive to see it. He won't be around for alot of things. My graduation, my wedding, my first child (if I ever have one). He won't ever be a grandfather or teach me guitar like I asked.
In a hazy dream this evening my father murmured out something like, "I remember when you were a baby." He proceeded to talk about the summer and how hot it would be. Most of the day he talked about the store and processing orders for pie, playing tic-tac-toe, or talking directly to the store employees. We had to patiently remind him that he was hallucinating. I would have much rather let him dream. He smiled during one of his dreams, called out to my brother ("son"), then my mother, and talked about filling orders for his store. That store is his passion.
We had to keep changing his bandages that filled up with blood. I've never seen so much blood in my life. And through it all, he made some terrible jokes.
I wish I could catalouge the entire day.
Because there won't be many more.
And Lindsey told me that God would grant me the time to speak with him. To tell him all the things I want to. At least I pray that he will have a chance to know how much I love him. I will make my father proud one day.
And I don't want to be home tonight because it scares the hell out of me.
The one person who would love me and calm me down is gone. Fuck him. My father's words to me were that I would find someone someday who loved me for who I was. Good riddance.
But God...this just isn't fair.
Thank you for your support. I'll call you when we have the wake.
One year she said. Or rather they said.
My father will most likely be dead by the end of this week. We are taking him home on Wednesday to die. The entire left side of his body is black where the blood has begun to settle below the skin's surface. He is bleeding from the suture wound in his abdomen as well as from the stomach itself. He is yellow from jaundice brought on by acute liver failure. He hallucinates from the five different types of pain killers they've prescribed and yet none of them seem to help him sleep. He forgot who I was in a moment this afternoon but Lindsey reminded me that yesterday he was saying my name in his sleep.
My father is dying and there is nothing I can do about it.
And today I told him that I'll be in Shakespeare festival this summer...and it took me about an hour to realize that he won't be alive to see it. He won't be around for alot of things. My graduation, my wedding, my first child (if I ever have one). He won't ever be a grandfather or teach me guitar like I asked.
In a hazy dream this evening my father murmured out something like, "I remember when you were a baby." He proceeded to talk about the summer and how hot it would be. Most of the day he talked about the store and processing orders for pie, playing tic-tac-toe, or talking directly to the store employees. We had to patiently remind him that he was hallucinating. I would have much rather let him dream. He smiled during one of his dreams, called out to my brother ("son"), then my mother, and talked about filling orders for his store. That store is his passion.
We had to keep changing his bandages that filled up with blood. I've never seen so much blood in my life. And through it all, he made some terrible jokes.
I wish I could catalouge the entire day.
Because there won't be many more.
And Lindsey told me that God would grant me the time to speak with him. To tell him all the things I want to. At least I pray that he will have a chance to know how much I love him. I will make my father proud one day.
And I don't want to be home tonight because it scares the hell out of me.
The one person who would love me and calm me down is gone. Fuck him. My father's words to me were that I would find someone someday who loved me for who I was. Good riddance.
But God...this just isn't fair.
Thank you for your support. I'll call you when we have the wake.