It's nearly been 2 weeks since my dad has passed. The house is quiet.
I stayed to take care of him since his diagnosis around April 2024. Chemo seemed to work slightly, and every month his body would lose vitality. To be honest, I saw he was hiding his health issues from the beginning of that year, his clothing was suspiciously looser than normal. In my mind I noted "it better not what I'm thinking it is". He never wanted people to know he was sick, even using lying tactics, which led to further complications down the line. (even now we have to deal with his misinformation)
And yet, instead of coming to the reality of terminal diagnosis, we continued as normal? Sure, the furniture was rearranged for more comfort to his mobility, but other than that, the natural dynamic still stayed ignorant of what was to come. Sometimes in the oncology appointments that I accompanied, he would ask for how long he had to live, that he could take hard news. But the amount of time prolonged did not seem to change his mindset in any way. No matter how much help our family tried to give him, he would only listen to doctors and nurses. Towards the end of his life, he would invite and talk with his friends and clients, joke and laugh. With us, he did not really say anything, or he would sleep. If he did speak, he would verbally pick on us, saying one of us is going to be fat or that we are stupid compared to him. It was only the few days before his death, he was asking for help, asking for us to be with him. I thought I was prepared for months, seeing that he was in and out of hospital.
Nothing prepares you to see your parents body. To see them sleeping forever. Even now I still process the permanence in tears. However, I do not miss the pain and suffering, the restlessness, the anger. Especially the lies that were spun in spite. Another thing that went under the radar was legalities, and also the sudden and inevitable drama surrounding extended family members. Including some that were conveniently told that we were not taking care of him / and even if we did see him in hospital, it was for only 5 minutes... Not only are we expected to manage incomprehensible loss, we have to navigate more emotional and legal issues at the same time.
Post-whatever-this-is, I try to take this as a learning experience rather than a great burden. There were many things my family were unable to do while assuming the care giver role (he refused hospice care until it meant he would get out of hospital). Yet, as a result of this mourning period, its hard to start anywhere. It feels like being let go into an ocean, floating aimlessly around. Taking each day at a time.
One thing that keeps me going is the fact that there's no perfect way to deal with this, we can only do our best.
