Today I find myself reliving the events of Nov 16, 2014.
It has been 4 months since my dad went home to God.
I like the sound of that better than "he died."
I want to believe he's in a better place waiting for us to join him. In a place where he can breath and chop wood and pull weeds without any issues.
I remember staying up all night on Nov 15, taking his temperature, knowing there wasn't much time left.
I remember one blissful second when I saw my father's eyes open, but he never really woke up.
I remember taking his blood pressure. Seeing how low it was and then how high.
I remember giving him a final bath with my sister-in-law.
I remember falling asleep for 10 fucking minutes...and then going to kiss him, only to find out he had gone.
Today, more than any day in the last 4 months, my mind has relived those last 48 hours, and everything hurts so much.
I don't think I'll ever get over his passing. I love my daddy so much. And there just wasn't enough time to tell him just how much.
I always felt safe with him in the house, even when he was sick. Now I'm scared of what lies ahead and I wish he were here to talk to or at least hold.
I've said this many times...life sucks without my daddy.
3670 - Prank
9 minutes ago