My father died 6 weeks ago. He had congestive heart failure, and had been hospitalized 3 times last year for extended periods with symptoms including shortness of breath & fluid retention.
I know his quality of life was greatly diminished. I know he was limited in his abilities of movement and travel. And I know he was tired of spending so much time either in the hospital or travelling for appointments. I know.
And yet ~ I wish he were still here. I wish he could have fought a little longer. I am full of grief & wishes; the grief won't go away & the wishes won't come true.
I am luckier than most. I really liked my dad. After my mom died 8 years ago, I spent a lot of time with him, & really got to know him as a person. I liked who he was. He was funny & smart & caring & kind, also quick-tempered & impatient & could swear better than anyone I've ever met.
I don't need to canonize him, but I'm certainly not going to demonize him, either.
Today, I was trying to work on a writing project & all I can think of is him.
I haven't cried since the doctor explained the medical issues he was experiencing and recommended we put him into comfort care. I don't know that I will. But I often feel like I'm on the edge of tears.
Grief is like snow. Today, I'm in a blizzard.
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