He's gone

On Saturday, Aug. 30 at approx 2:20pm my father passed away. I want to say that he went peacefully in his sleep, but I really don't know if that is true.

My brother and I had been to see him Friday night and he was in some pain, but he seemed to be okay. Saturday at around 8:20am I got a call at work that he was non-responsive and that I should go to the hospital.

I got there and it is a picture that I will have a tough time erasing from my memory. He was laying there with his eyes open but not seeing. They were glazed over like they weren' t real eyes.

We sat and held his hand and talked to him until just after noon, when Doug said he needed to go home to help Camille with the kids. I stayed, and around 2:00pm his breathing started to slow down. I just sat and held his hand until he finally stopped breathing.

I have to believe that he knew that I was there, that he wasn't alone. I know that the last few years of his life have been less than stellar. I never told him that I loved him while he was still able know. I hope he heard me at the end.

I know Brent doesn't understand why this is hitting me so hard, because he wasn't really much of a father at the end. When I was in university, and when I graduated, he was there for me, when Mom was busy with her new life in Oklahoma. When Kyle was born, he saw him as much as he good. He loved having a grandson so close and he was tickled when Mitchell was named after him.

He tried really hard to fight his demons, alcohol just got the best of him. I keep wondering if he had a place where he felt wanted as opposed to tolerated, if he would have drank as much as he did. I guess towards the end, the drinking probably helped with the pain.

Sunday at the funeral home was almost surreal. Within 30 minutes, I had made arrangements to have him cremated and $3000 I was done. Imagine, $3000 and no ceremony. That is just to pick him up, cremate him and put his remains in a box.

I was supposed to go and pick up the remains today, but I just couldn't. I can't avoid it any longer and I am going to have to go tomorrow. Just when I think that I am done and I can deal with his death something sets me off. I get an email from one of his old RCMP buddies or I get a phone call or sympathy card and it sets me off.

I think I will go for counselling. I need someone to talk to and I can't seem to ask Brent. How sad is that when you don' t feel like you can talk to your own husband. He hasn't been very supportative of this whole situation, but I know that I don't make it easy for people to help me, I am way to independant.

Maybe Monday I'll give Bayliss a call. Until then you are my best listener,