my dad

My father died last week. Even though he'd been in the hospital for a few weeks, his death was unexpected. He went in voluntarily on December 30 because he had difficulty breathing. He had a range of health issues that the doctors couldn't quite get a handle on, even after he was helicoptered to a better-equipped university hospital last Wednesday. They think he'd had chronic lung disease and had also gotten a recent infection. Add that to diabetes and heart disease, and ultimately, his heart and lung complications were just too much. We all (my dad included) did not realize how serious it was until the last few days. I am grateful, though, that his immediate family made it to the hospital in time and he passed peacefully with all of us there. 15 minutes of his heart slowing to a stop, and we were all in the room. I will never be able to forget that moment.

I’m assuming that the day he died--Friday, January 11, or 1/11--will be a date that I will always remember. Is it a common thing, to remember the date of a loved one’s death? I’ve also been doing calculations since he died... weird, inane calculations, like I spoke to my dad for the last time 4 days before he died, or, upon seeing the impressive ages of centenarians on the Today show, that man got to live 43 years longer than my dad. Not fair. And the numbers keep coming. My dad lived for 60 years and 27 days. My dad died 4 minutes before 9:00pm.

His death and funeral have been a heart-wrenching experiences, ones that I cannot quite put into words, though I hope to do so in the next few months, whether here or privately. On some level, it will probably be good for me to do so, but I just can’t do it all right now. I was so thankful that I got to see and hear from so many good friends and family over the last week. For those who read here, thank you all so much. I am so grateful to have you all in my life.