It's been awhile seems to be a common sentence for me when it comes to DeviantArt. Life just keeps me from doing a lot of things, including things I normally enjoy.
The past 2 years have been a constant rollercoaster with my health, both physical and mental. My endometriosis always tests my strength, sometimes I think I'm doing fine and then all of a sudden, I come to realization I have a chronic illness that really holds me hostage. Same thing for my brain, thanks for great genes parents.
My father passed away March 30th after a 9 month battle with non-hodgking's lymphoma. They found a growth in the middle of his chest, between his heart and lungs which made his battle very uncomfortable. My father and I had a rocky relationship. He wasn't always the dad I wished I had but losing him has been very difficult, more so than I ever thought. Grief shows up in the strangest ways, at the strangest times and it's not everything you think it will be. I find myself dealing with a lot of guilt... guilt for things I didn't say, for the things he didn't say, for not spending as much time as maybe I should have over the past 15 years.
I see him in my dreams sometimes. I'm not religious but I do consider myself spiritually curious and I know there's a lot of things in this world we can't always explain. I sometimes like to think it's him visiting me, just saying "Hey Ash, I'm okay, we are okay." But who knows really...
The day he passed away, we got a call at 3:30am, we missed it. We called the hospital palliative care and they said nothing was wrong. Two minutes later the phone rang and it was the hospital telling us to come in. We arrived around 4:25am and he had just passed. His skin was still warm, he was pale and lifeless. Thin... skeletal. Let me tell you, seeing someone waste away like that, well you can't really put it into words. I remember "praying" that he would just go to sleep and pass when it was coming to the end because he had no life. After we got back from the hospital, I laid my head down to try and sleep, my father came like a dream when I shut my eyes. He was laying in that hospital bed, gown and all but instead of being sick, he was healthy and he smiled at me...
You would never meet a more stubborn man. He fought us tooth and nail right to the end. He didn't want a hospital bed in the house but we eventually had to get one whether he wanted it or not. But for that first little bit he refused to go near it but suddenly he decided he would, just one day, out of nowhere. My dad had a hard time laying down because his breathing had become so bad, so he sat. He slept sitting up, which scared us when he was becoming weaker.
My brother and I played music for him constantly. We made a playlist of some of his favourite songs on Spotify. The Beatles, Billy Joel, KD Lang, Fleetwood Mac, Led Zeppelin filled the air.
Dad was so weak at the end, even speaking was difficult for him but he would sometimes wave me over to sit next to him, holding his hand and occasionally he would try and hug or put his arm around me. His full weight baring down on me.
It's hard to focus so much on the end but his battle will always be a part of me because despite our differences, our struggles and our fights, I think I'm more like my father than I want to admit. I'm stubborn like him. I love music because of him, listening to albums and watching concerts was what we did. I will miss his sense of humour, even though sometimes it was so annoying and embarrassing, he still knew how to make me laugh. I loved how much he loved our cats.
I just wanted you to be proud of me and I hope in some way you were.
I love you so much daddy.
Sorry this turned so depressing. I think I just cried a river while writing this. Maybe this is a good grieving tool?