On Mondays and Wednesdays Hannah has Volleyball practice down near my Moms house. When the season started back in November, I made a promise to my Dad that we'd be joining him for dinner on those days each week. That only lasted a few weeks until he had his heart attack on December 13th, the day after my Moms birthday. I've been remembering those dinner dates with Dad, and I can't help but feel an overwhelming sadness when I think of how he was feeling physically those weeks in December before his surgery.
He was miserable. In fact, I felt bad being there, because I know he really wanted to just lie down. Sometimes he had to. His back pain was debilitating, and yet, he didnt take anything for the pain. There wasn't anything that helped. Dad just wasn't feeling well for so many reasons those last few weeks, but he was still always happy to see us. He'd even cook dinner for US sometimes, when I was supposed to be bringing HIM dinner! Thats just how Dad was. If I knew what was coming in the weeks ahead, I would have told my Dad a whole list of things that I wanted to say. All words of gratitude. Now, I'll never have that chance.
Mondays and Wednesdays have now changed from "dinner with Dad" to spending time with my Mom. (whenever she finally gets home from work that is) I feel alot of comfort in that house, the home where I grew up. My Dad is everywhere.
My Dad is there. All around. Everywhere. He is the landscaped yard and the freshly painted walls. The old porch swing he built when I was little. The old clock on the wall that he loved so much. The insulin in the fridge. The bedroom addition he built on his own, just so we could each have our own room. The garage....my DADS garage, full of all his fancy work. My Dad has left his mark upon every inch of that house. As much as all these things bring me comfort, I also feel so empty. So numb. And still, I don't believe he is gone.
We all used to spend endless hours sitting on the back porch. Just enjoying the fresh air. Tonight we did just that, and, I could feel him there. I felt at peace for a few moments. I looked around the yard to where his garden once grew. I could see us there, together. I remember how I used to help my Dad pick the tomatoes that profusely grew each summer. He taught me the love of gardening ever since I can remember. At that moment, I could feel him there.
My Mom was unpacking a bag from the hospital tonight. That bag has sat untouched since Dad died nearly a month ago. From the bag Mom gave me Dads meter. His test strips. His finger poker. They now belong to me. Its a weird thing looking back over Dads numbers recorded in that meter. Alot of lows. And then, the HI HI HI recorded from the day my Dad had the heart attack. His blood sugar was over 1,000. I couldnt help but cry. A reminder that this really isnt a bad dream. Those four horrible weeks in ICU really DID happen, and my Dad really IS gone. And yet, he is still everywhere.
Moving my blog again
3 years ago