The sun does indeed rise after tragedy. I am typing to a glorious sunrise filled with the scent of freshly cut hay and birds chirping. The light is playing through the shadows of Sherwood Forest, dancing across the grass. Life does go on. My heart hurts and my mind dramatizes with the thoughts that this sunrise my dad will never see. Truthfully, he hasn't seen any for days and even weeks. His passing is all so final.
I hate the thought that he is in a morgue, keeping his body cooled and in limbo. I hate him being alone. I want to be with him but know that I am not strong enough for the coldness and stiffness of his body. I chose to remain in the room as the funeral people wrapped and transferred him into the body bag. Karen and her sister didn't want to be there, but I felt like I couldn't leave him. I kept thinking that these were the last few precious moments I would ever have with him. I couldn't leave, even had I wanted to.
This blog chronicles my journey from daughter and father to fatherless daughter.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Dad died
He died this morning at 2:20 am. I was really hoping he wouldn't die on the 4th...but logically I know that any day would be hard.
Jon and the kids are still in Seattle and I am thinking that I will drive back today and return in a few days for the funeral. I suppose it hasn't really sunk in yet, but I have been preparing for this day since December 21 when he was diagnosed with the three tumors. I am thankful that I got the last six months to prepare and give him extra attention.
He truly was a great and gentle man who loved all animals, was a family counselor, kept active golfing and river rafting, and loved to travel. He grew up in an incredibly racist and abusive family and overcame so much. He was the first in his family to graduate from college and create a new life. He was never abusive (never even spanked me) and went on to create a beautiful life for himself. I am astounded by how many friends come and visit him...all with stories of what a great man he was. He was so kind and I am so saddened that my kids will not know him.
Jon and the kids are still in Seattle and I am thinking that I will drive back today and return in a few days for the funeral. I suppose it hasn't really sunk in yet, but I have been preparing for this day since December 21 when he was diagnosed with the three tumors. I am thankful that I got the last six months to prepare and give him extra attention.
He truly was a great and gentle man who loved all animals, was a family counselor, kept active golfing and river rafting, and loved to travel. He grew up in an incredibly racist and abusive family and overcame so much. He was the first in his family to graduate from college and create a new life. He was never abusive (never even spanked me) and went on to create a beautiful life for himself. I am astounded by how many friends come and visit him...all with stories of what a great man he was. He was so kind and I am so saddened that my kids will not know him.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
I am scared
I spoke with Karen on Monday and she had said my dad was going down hill quickly but was still having moments of clarity. Today I received a phone call and she told me that he was "failing quickly" and her sister told me that he isn't responding to anyone. She mentioned that if I were to come and visit, he probably wouldn't even know I was there. The doctors have increased his morphine and he is completely unresponsive.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Trip
I had a good encounter with my dad today. True, he is stuck 24 hours a day in a hospital bed and not very communicative, but I saw peaks into him...and am so thankful.
Despite this, he held my hand (very firmly) this evening after dinner. He even told Karen, "someones cold hand woke me up!" This sense of humor has been absent and it was good to have him back. I was talking to him about coming to visit next weekend and was wondering aloud if we should stay in a hotel for all or partially all of our stay. He said, "the creatures..." and I said, "are you referring to my offspring as creatures?" and he said, "yes."
I asked him if he had a nice visit with Kari and Kevin and he said, "OH YES!" and, "Very much so." He told Kari (my step sister) today that "you were never far from my heart." I was so touched by this force of emotion with which he was able to articulate.
I asked him tonight if he believes in God and he said, "I think so." I brought up his green jeans God seeing...but he remained mute and didn't say anything.
He seems to enjoy listening to the Oldies station on the TV and it has been playing for the past two days. He points out singers, indicating that he likes Neil Diamond.
He enjoyed the strawberry pie that Karen made for dessert tonight and always drinks a large glass of milk with each meal. He eats only tablespoons of food at a time. Maybe a 1/2 cup of food in every meal.
Despite this, he held my hand (very firmly) this evening after dinner. He even told Karen, "someones cold hand woke me up!" This sense of humor has been absent and it was good to have him back. I was talking to him about coming to visit next weekend and was wondering aloud if we should stay in a hotel for all or partially all of our stay. He said, "the creatures..." and I said, "are you referring to my offspring as creatures?" and he said, "yes."
I asked him if he had a nice visit with Kari and Kevin and he said, "OH YES!" and, "Very much so." He told Kari (my step sister) today that "you were never far from my heart." I was so touched by this force of emotion with which he was able to articulate.
I asked him tonight if he believes in God and he said, "I think so." I brought up his green jeans God seeing...but he remained mute and didn't say anything.
He seems to enjoy listening to the Oldies station on the TV and it has been playing for the past two days. He points out singers, indicating that he likes Neil Diamond.
He enjoyed the strawberry pie that Karen made for dessert tonight and always drinks a large glass of milk with each meal. He eats only tablespoons of food at a time. Maybe a 1/2 cup of food in every meal.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Club
There is a weird club that I am wanting to be part of: the dying parent club and no one who hasn't experienced it is allowed. I am being melodramatic but I truly notice a deep desire to connect with others who have gone through this. I immediately feel a kinship and sense of empathy. I feel closer to them because we share this horrible bond. I look at the words that I just typed "horrible bond" and wonder if I am being dramatic again. Death is inevitable, so it shouldn't be a surprise. In the end, we all die, but it just feels so isolating to keep living long after your loved one's pass. Feeling a sense of aloneness that hasn't hit me with the deaths of other family members.
This parent dying thing sucks. Death forces most to look at their mortality, but a parents death causes you to examine deeper. You are now alone in the world, without your parents (hopefully) undying support and love. It feels very isolating. The ripple's of their death go far beyond me and touch my children's lives. This is one of the aspects that hurt the most. My youngest children will never know the man who was my father. They will always be grandfather less on their mom's side. It isn't fair and my heart aches for their ignorance of this great man.
This parent dying thing sucks. Death forces most to look at their mortality, but a parents death causes you to examine deeper. You are now alone in the world, without your parents (hopefully) undying support and love. It feels very isolating. The ripple's of their death go far beyond me and touch my children's lives. This is one of the aspects that hurt the most. My youngest children will never know the man who was my father. They will always be grandfather less on their mom's side. It isn't fair and my heart aches for their ignorance of this great man.
Scared
Though I am scared and terribly saddened by my dad's upcoming death, I am also frightened by how it will change me.
Will it make me colder, less flexible, less compromising in life. Will I live life with a, "Life's too short" philosophy; abandoning my marriage and cares? Or will I secretly begin to resent my husband more; for all of the ways he is unlike my peaceful and centered father? Will I seek out men with these qualities, hoping to feel a piece of my dad surrounding me? I am fearful of the unknown and concerned how his death will rock my world.
I can't lose this loving man in my life. He is the opposite of all the masculine cliche's. He is calm, fun, open minded, and settled. He doesn't make jokes about politics, hunting, and women (at least never in front of me). He may laugh at some jokes...but he never initiates. He is patient with kids, spending much of his career counseling young kids and teens. He is goodness and I always knew he would become a better grandfather than father. He doesn't have the chance, now, and that makes me so mournful for all of us.
Will it make me colder, less flexible, less compromising in life. Will I live life with a, "Life's too short" philosophy; abandoning my marriage and cares? Or will I secretly begin to resent my husband more; for all of the ways he is unlike my peaceful and centered father? Will I seek out men with these qualities, hoping to feel a piece of my dad surrounding me? I am fearful of the unknown and concerned how his death will rock my world.
I can't lose this loving man in my life. He is the opposite of all the masculine cliche's. He is calm, fun, open minded, and settled. He doesn't make jokes about politics, hunting, and women (at least never in front of me). He may laugh at some jokes...but he never initiates. He is patient with kids, spending much of his career counseling young kids and teens. He is goodness and I always knew he would become a better grandfather than father. He doesn't have the chance, now, and that makes me so mournful for all of us.
Hospice

This picture was taken of my dad in August 2007 at our first ever Linville Family Reunion. He looks so happy, don't you think?
I just received a cell phone message from Karen telling me that she needed to talk to me and that my dad was now on hospice. She said his health had really declined and needed to let me know what was going on. I called her back, but she didn't answer.
I had a mini breakdown over this. The kind where the sobs come out in whimpers. I feel so anguished and alone. I am frustrated with myself for not spending more time with him in January, asking him all the things I had to time to ask him then. He isn't able to hold a coherent question at this point and I missed my window. I wish someone would have told me to stay with him. I wish someone would have insisted on this.
I plan to travel back down this weekend. The question becomes as to whether I should take the kids or not. I suppose he I will ask Karen about this and proceed from there.
It is interesting how I avoid calling. Maybe because I don't know her that well, possibly because it is painful to face, and I will let myself off the hook a bit and say that I am busy with three kids and a family. I know that I will read this words months and years from now and frown at how little I called. I don't forgive myself for this.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)