We buried my Dad 2 weeks ago today
My Dad died suddenly. His death was not expected. He had been sick with MRSA for a year. He contracted it in the hospital that he worked at while having a knee replacement surgery, however, it was mostly under control... at least we thought is was. While the MRSA was not what officially killed him, it may have been a player in his death. My father went into the hospital because he was throwing up blood. During the night he aspirated on his vomit. He was without oxygen for about five minutes while the doctors worked very hard to clean out his air way. Once clear, they worked on him for about 40 minutes to revive him. Unfortunately, he was without oxygen for too long and never regained consciousness. He failed all the reflex tests as well, and was deemed brain dead.
I received the call on Tuesday morning. Actually Chris got the call. We work for the same company and he came up to my cube and said "Alice Kaye (my ex-step mother) is on the phone, it's about your Dad..." I knew it was bad and I asked him "Is he dead" over and over as he handed me the phone. She told me that the doctor told her "to call the children". He wasn't expected to live through the day.
Chris and I made plans to leave the next morning. We would have left that evening, but there were too many details to take care of. We dropped the kids off with Noelle, who in turn took them up north to be with Chris's parents. I didn't sleep at all, as I expected the phone to ring any moment and tell me that my Dad had passed. He made it through the mid-afternoon of the next day. He passed about 15 minutes before I got there. They took him off of life support and he passed within five minutes. He was surrounded by my brothers, his brother, my Mom and friends.
Nothing will ever prepare you for the death of a parent. This has been the hardest thing I have ever been through in my life. What bothers me the most, is the fact that he was young. He had just turned 65. The man didn't even get to apply for social security! He worked his whole life and expected to enjoy retirement and then this happens...
I spoke with him about a week before he died. I am so thankful that we spoke then. He sounded good. He was in good spirits. He wanted to come visit for Thanksgiving. He told me that he loved me and I said the same. At least I have that. I didn't get to be with him when he passed, but at least I have that...
I felt the need to document something about him, so I scrapbooked a page tonight about him. I will admit that it wasn't the best idea. I'm too close to it right now and bawled off and on during the process. OK... and I've pretty much cried the whole time while writing this post. I keep looking at his photo and it just brings me to tears. He may not have been a perfect man and we may have not had a perfect relationship, but he was still my Dad and I hate the fact that I will never hear one of his funny stories, or go shooting with him, or witness him cleaning out his car with a leaf blower (true story) or just be around him ever again.
