Saturday, 15 October 2005

Oh Dad...

Days have been so much easier lately with dealing with Dad’s death. After last night, I can’t stop thinking about him though. That physical pain in my chest is back. The ache of an unfillable hole in my heart. I see him in bed the night before he died…I was lying on the left hand side of the bed, on my side, watching him sleep. He was on the right side of the bed, on his side, holding my hand…for dear life. He’d wake every so often and smile that sweet smile. Every time he opened his eyes, I’d tell him I loved him…and through his pain, every time, he said “I love you too.” We knew. We both knew…the suffering was coming to an end.

I was talking to a friend at the charity dinner last night and we were discussing how when someone dies, we carry guilt. No matter how, where or when someone dies, someone inevitably feels guilt. My guilt lies in not bringing Dad back home to die. He wanted to be home and we couldn’t fulfill that wish. I held his cheeks while he lay on the stretcher in his bedroom, before the paramedics took him to the hospital…I looked into his eyes and promised him we’d bring him home again….we never did. He died at the hospital. As much as I realize that it was out of my control, I will carry that guilt with me until the day I meet him again.

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