It's been two years since he died...

Canon EF 17-40mm f/4.0L USM

01/05/2007 04:59:35 PM · #1

Warning: Likely to be long and emotional...

My dad died January 6, 2005. I can't believe it's been 2 years because it feels like so long ago and like it was yesterday at the same time. Every day I think about or am reminded of him, and I want to remember him, but I want to have control over it. For example, I'll be walking by the greeting card section and see the cards for dads and I'll suddenly stop walking, just kind of blank out and stare for a couple of seconds and move on. That happens about once a week and I wish I didn't do it, but I'm sure there's a psychological reason for it.

My dad, Dave, had always been a quirky, fun guy as well as a little bit of a hypochondriac (as I am). He would get a little cold and whine and moan for a week. Then in 2004, he started getting weird symptoms. His limbs swelled so much that you would think by touching them that they were rock hard, the hair on his right arm would fall out and suddenly there was twice as much on his left arm, he'd get horrible leg cramps that would cause him to scream like a girl that could only be allieviated by me helping him into a hot shower.

He went to several doctors, under several specialties, who had all different ideas or had no idea at all. One constant diagnosis was that he was anemic because his white blood cells were desroying his red blood cells (similar to leukemia). He would have to go in every few week, then every 2 weeks, then twice a week for blood transfusions. He kept getting worse, so in November, 2004 they decided to do a risky procedure at Stanford Hospital, where they cleaned out his entire immune system because of how overactive it was. There was a 50% survival rate...but he didn't make it.

About a week after he had the procedure, he wanted to go to a movie with me. I told him he should probably stay in the hospital since he had no immmune system, but he said he had a special mask. He picked me up and we went to the theater. On the way, I poked a little fun at his mask because it looked like a huge gas mask with bright pink filters, saying that he sounded like Darth Vader. He had always laughed at his illness, but he wasn't anymore. I had mentioned a week earlier that I wanted to see the movie Robots, but I remember his saying he wanted to see Flight of the Phoenix. I said we could see Flight of the Phoenix since he had just gotten out of the Hospital, but he practiacally yelled at me, "No. We're seeing Robots!" That scared me a little bit. We saw it and I was glad he enjoyed it (or acted like it), because I really didn't care for it much. But still, whenever I hear about that movie or see in at blockbuster, I feel an extreme amount of guilt.

Him and my mom had divorced when I was 5, but they still had split custody over me. I had two homes, one with my mom in a three bedroom house, and one with my dad in a beaten down apartment. I always felt more at home with my dad, because honestly, I liked him more. He didn't love anyone more than me. I even remember asking him why he didn't have a girlfriend and he said that he wanted to keep all of his attention on me. Anyway, after the procedure, I spent my time with him at my aunt and uncle's house, which was closer to the hospital. I was regrettibly getting a little agrivated by his complainging and screams in the middle of the night, although they were completely understandable. I remember the last day I heard him, I was sleeping on the couch and he was stumbling down the stairs while I pretended to keep sleeping, he was yelling "Steven!(his brother) Steven, we need to go! It's getting dark! It's getting dark!" They took him to the hospital and I just layed there.

From there the doctors decided to put him into a drug-induced coma since he had been fighting the ventilator. I had wanted to at least talk to him before they did that, but I didn't get a chance. He was in the coma for about three weeks, his condition going up and down. I kept asking my aunt and uncle to tell me when he came out of it because I wasn't going to see him hooked up to 20 machines without being able to actually talk to him. Even when I was little, he specifically told me that if he ever got so sick, he didn't want me to see him or be on those machines for very long. He died on a thursday.

Ever since I was about three, I had dreams about my dad dying and how I would react. I would lay in bed crying thinking that it would be the worst feeling in the world, which it was. I had thankfully decided to stay home from school the night before. All those fears I had had since I was little were finally true. I was happy to be home alone so I could cry and yell without feeling embarrassed with sombody there. I cried almost all day. I tried to block it out by watching TV, which has always made me stop crying before, but not this time. The hardest part was that I got a phone call form his best friend who wanted to talk to my dad, and I had to be the one to tell him. I said 'passed away', but I remember thinking that that was a stupid phrase because he was dead, and there's no getting around that. I kept telling myself "this isn't happening, this isn't happening" which I think helped me to get through my school finals the next week.

I returned to school and work four days later. My teacher and boss looked at me as if I was the one who had died. I shrugged it off in front of them and my friends when they said sorry. For some reason, I HATED it when people said they were sorry. I know they really meant it, but I just hated it. Another thing that bothere me was that everyone kept saying, "it's okay to cry." I kept saying 'I do.' But thinking, "how much do you want me to effing cry?? I cry enough and is it not enough that I'm reminded every day?" Yes, I was silently angry at these people for a couple weeks, but I never blamed anyone for my dad's death. I never blamed the hospital, I never blamed the doctors, I never blamed my family (even though weeks later I was told that they had 'pulled the plug')I never blamed him, or myself. I never blamed god because I've never believed in God. So please don't say, "god and faith can help you through this" beacause I don't want that help. I want to help myself.

The funeral was very nice, and of course I cried. They were silent tears on a blotchy face, but they were there. They lowered the casket and I waited for that feeling of relief or peace, but it never came. It never came when I dropped a rose in the casket, or when they handed me the flag and the cross, and it still hasn't come. Why hasn't it come, even when I cry right now? Is it because I don't go to his grave and talk to that piece of granite? Why?

It's been two years and I feel I've aged so much. I feel so old. I still have fun, and I'm happier than I've probably ever been. But still-it's always in the back of my mind. I'll always be seen as "the girl who's dad died when she was 16", I'll never have him walk me down the aisle at my wedding, he will never be a grandpa, I'll never be able to by him a fathers day card again, I'll never be able to show him my favorite photographs (he loved photography), I will simply never see him again.

He was my favorite person in the world nad yet I seem cold about how I write about him. I'll never expect people to fully understand, but maybe someone can shed some light on my strange behavior from your perspective. I'm not exactly sure why I'm writing this here, but I suppose it's because I bottle everything up and I just need to let it out. I also respect everyone's opinions here, and I think you can enlighten me. Thank you.

asimchoudhri

Canon EOS-5D Mark III

01/05/2007 05:07:44 PM · #2

it is a very sad story. only you understand what this means to you. nothing that anyone else has to say matters... what matters is what you say and feel, and you have done so in a very touching way. thank you for sharing this life-changing experience with us. he would be proud of your photographic portfolio.

SteveJ

Canon EOS-7D

Canon EF-S 18-135mm f/3.5-5.6 IS STM

01/05/2007 05:08:32 PM · #3

So touching and true, nothing seems the same whe you lose a loved one. When my mum died, I couldn't get to the funeral and never really grieved. Even now, I know she has passed on, but she is still alive in my eyes.

There is no shame in grieving, but also there is no set time.

Remember your father, know that he has gone on, but never truly left you. He knows how much you love him. He is always there when you have problems, just ask him. You see him in photos, you feel him on those lonely nights.

Accept that he has moved on to a better place but will never leave you.

Treasure those memories, he was special. But so are you.

TooCool

Canon EOS-300D Rebel

Canon EF 50mm f/1.8 II

01/05/2007 05:12:39 PM · #4

I lost my dad about 6 years ago the weekend after Thanksgiving weekend. Most of my family was living in Nashville and I am in Michigan. We went down to see them for thanksgiving and had a wonderful time. The next Saturday I was at work when my wife called me to say he was gone. I went through the opposite kind of reaction that you did. I totally lost it. Ran to the bathroom and cried for 15 minutes... Cried on the drive home... Cried on the plane back to Nashville... Sobbed uncontrollably during the funeral... Never got to see him because he was cremated before I got there and that's bothered me for a long time... Guess we all deal with these kind of things in our own ways...

I know you say that you don't want to hear about faith, but you still gotta have faith in yourself. Faith that you will figure out how to deal with this. Faith that everything happened the way it's supposed to have worked out.

Don't know if this helps or not but that's what I got for ya... Now I gotta go find a kleenex...

Nikon AF-S DX NIKKOR 18-200mm f/3.5-5.6G ED VR II

01/05/2007 05:14:15 PM · #5

Originally posted by sodoff:

Remember your father, know that he has gone on, but never truly left you. He knows how much you love him. He is always there when you have problems, just ask him. You see him in photos, you feel him on those lonely nights.

Accept that he has moved on to a better place but will never leave you.

I don't feel that I can ask him because he's dead. I know what you are saying, but I can't do this, I've tried. It only depresses me more that I can't feel that he's 'always in the things around me' which is frustrating. And unfortuantely toocool, I also don't believe in fate

Message edited by author 2007-01-05 17:16:48.

isonaj

Nikon D200

01/05/2007 05:15:14 PM · #6

If this is a "cold" rendition of about your father, I would hate to read something soppy. I'm having trouble holding back the tears.

I don't see anything wrong with how you're feeling. You miss him and you're talking about it. These are both good things. Thank you for sharing this with us.

"Happiness is knowing that you do not necessarily require happiness."

lentil

Canon EOS-5D

Canon EF 135mm f/2.0L USM

01/05/2007 05:15:56 PM · #7

Hi Leah,
I just wanted to say that my dad died when I was 18 and I have the very same feelings as you. Even though I am now 37, he never walked me down the aisle, saw my children or any of the stuff that parents are supposed to do. My mum also died when I was 18.
There will be years when christmas, birthdays, fathers day come around where you are just plain angry and other years you will be sad. It is important to go with whatever you are feeling. I actually cancelled christmas one year because I was so mad. (i didnt have kids then). I guess what I am getting at is it will be hard, but believe that you will come out of it a more compassionate person. I still find it hard after all these years but I also feel it taught me life lessons. I am always available for chat if you want, just send me a PM.

Lisa

Nikon AF Nikkor 85mm f/1.8D

01/05/2007 05:15:58 PM · #8

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Message edited by author 2007-01-05 17:16:19.

Louis

Nikon D800

01/05/2007 05:17:13 PM · #9

What a beautiful post. Probably the most intimate, personal, and human thing I've read here. The revelation of what looks like weakness or selfishness is particularly touching, and something everyone on the planet can identify with. This is something I won't soon forget.

SteveJ

Canon EOS-7D

Canon EF-S 18-135mm f/3.5-5.6 IS STM

01/05/2007 05:21:25 PM · #10

Originally posted by Blue Moon:

Originally posted by sodoff:
Remember your father, know that he has gone on, but never truly left you. He knows how much you love him. He is always there when you have problems, just ask him. You see him in photos, you feel him on those lonely nights.

Accept that he has moved on to a better place but will never leave you.

I don't feel that I can ask him because he's dead. I know what you are saying, but I can't do this, I've tried. It only depresses me more that I can't feel that he's 'always in the things around me' which is frustrating.

Of course you know he died, you went to the funeral. However, when you relax and think about him, he will be there for you. It is the seperation of the physical and spiritual. In body he has passed on, but he really is there for you. It is not a contest to get him to speak to you, it is a relaxed state of mind. Just take some time, get comfortable and just speak to him.

You can do this at anytime, there is no pressure or commitment. It just happens.

fotomann_forever

01/05/2007 05:24:41 PM · #11

Leah, it sounds like you really loved your dad and that he loved you. You should have some joy in that. Because, you both knew that you were loved.

Sounds like a bit of your guilt is that you decided to pretend you were asleep when he was going to the hospital.

I can tell you from personal experience that taking care of a critical ill person is no fun and I have personally tried to fake altered states to get out of responsibility for a while. I took car of my grandmother for 6 months, while she dying of liver cancer.

It's nothing to be ashamed of or guilty about. We, as humans, NEED down time for stress and fatigue.

It seems, to me from reading your post, that much of your pain comes from guilt. It is something that YOU have to come to grips with. Just remember that YOU had nothing to do with your dad's death.

Odd thing is, I had to have the same conversation with a g/f's 14 y/o daughter New Years day about the loss of her grandmother. She was about to feed her grandmother when she came screaming to her mom that gramma was breathing funny. Her gramma had advanced Alzheimer's When her mom and I got inside, she wasn't breathing at all. All we could (or should do) do at that point was call a nurse to pronounce her dead.

She did nothing wrong, but blamed herself for it. At her funeral today, she was still very quiet an seemed very reflective. I'm sure she will be facing much the same agony as you are for years.

All I can say at this point is that you know the love you and your dad shared. Cherish that.

01/05/2007 05:31:17 PM · #12

Originally posted by fotomann_forever:

I try not to feel guilty, and hopefully I'll get over it. It's just difficult of course. I feel bad for the girl. My grandma died of alzheimers less than a year before my dad, which also cause extreme feelings of guilt, because towards the end, I din't feel like she was my grandma anymore. My dad told me to give her a kiss on the cheek, and when I leaned down, she exhaled and it smelled like death. It was like kissing an emply shell of a person who had been taken over by a demon. Why do I write these things, if it only makes me feel worse?

Message edited by author 2007-01-05 20:30:44.

fotomann_forever

01/05/2007 05:38:45 PM · #13

Originally posted by Blue Moon:

Why do I write these things, if it only makes me feel worse?

Feeling bad is a way of dealing with things and helps with long-term happiness. There is no shame in grieving.

Message edited by author 2007-01-05 17:39:07.

Canon EF-S 18-55mm f/3.5-5.6 II

01/05/2007 05:45:25 PM · #14

Originally posted by fotomann_forever:

Feeling bad is a way of dealing with things and helps with long-term happiness. There is no shame in grieving.

It's nice to see that you can be touching as well as histerical :)

fotomann_forever

01/05/2007 05:53:40 PM · #15

Originally posted by Blue Moon:

Originally posted by fotomann_forever:

Feeling bad is a way of dealing with things and helps with long-term happiness. There is no shame in grieving.

It's nice to see that you can be touching as well as histerical :)

Well Leah, emotions are part of what we are. Laughter or sadness are all part of the human experience. Just like you will quit laughing at something funny I said, you will learn to deal with the passing of your dad.

In both cases, you will remember both. Just try not to dwell on the bad memories. Seems that you have a lot of good ones to dwell on.

EducatedSavage

Canon EOS-400D Rebel XTi

01/05/2007 09:14:01 PM · #16

Leah --

Good for you sharing. It's an important thing to do instead of avoiding what happened. My mother died when I was... heh, I can't even remember. 16 or 17, right around there and it STILL feels like it was yesterday... or an eternity ago. It's a hard thing to deal with and it's going to be something you have to deal with every day forevermore.

The only thing I can offer is that it will get easier someday and everytime it happens, you get closer and closer to just remembering the good stuff and not letting the bad stuff be the thing you focus on. 2 years really might as well be yesterday - that's no time at all.

Just hang in there and go easy on yourself.

-- C, ES

love

Canon EOS-500D Rebel T1i