R.I.P. My beloved, lovely, dear old Dad

JMD - I know exactly what you mean about the double edged sword of being there or not being there at the end  of a loved one's life.  I too never got the chance to say goodbye to my Dad who died 34 years ago and I now having had both experiences losing people very close to me  think I lean more towards not being there but I will write more on those feelings in my next blog.

The crux of it is that there are no easy ways to say goodbye to someone you love.

Stay strong everyone and make a concerted effort to remember the good times because those are the memories that will help all of us through the darkest of days.

Big squidgy hugs and much love to you all,

Nin xxxxx

sparklestars

My mum and I got the phonecall last November about 2.30 a.m. and I answered it as she is a heavy sleeper. I was staying at my parents' house to driver her back & forth to the hospice 9 miles away but the night of 5th Nov my car broke down. Outside the hospice, waiting in the dark for breakdown truck, freezing cold, beautiful fireworks in the sky...totally weird experience. Anyway, when The Call came, mum was really, agonisingly slow at getting ready, saying do we have time for a cup of coffee, and I was saying no,no,no... Got there to my dad's room and the staff had a pot of tea ready for us and darling(?) mum says, oh it was like this with your granny, they always give you tea at the last gasp. (Oh how I did not want her to say that). So we were at the side of the bed drinking tea, like watching a tv show or something, while dad is propped up in bed, staring & not seeing (we think) at a picture of somewhere in the Highlands (he always said he hated the Highlands & I never understood why he didn't move out of Scotalnd if he hated it so much). We had been called as his breathing had changed: got very very rattly with the fluid on his vocal cords (?). He was on a morphine driver so we think he had no pain but kept struggling to breathe, staring & staring and gasping like a fish out of water & I kept thinking, stop, stop, rest now but he wouldn't, clinging desperately to life, a life that was over because his mind was broken like his body in multiple organ failure, such a clever man (a teacher, PhD, never missed a chance to correct anyone & everyone & not usually kindly), mind gone and body wasted... His breathing changed: so quiet I thought he'd gone & rang for the nurse: went out into silent dim corridor to see where one would come from, hovering in case I missed the last moment but not knowing if he was really there anyway... two nurses came and we waited for a rew minutes until his breathing stopped, looking at each other all the time, and scenes from ER in my head, Call it, but this was real & my father...Time of death 3:40a.m. and him still propped up in bed in his hospital gown (fastened at the back to stop him clawing at his pyjamas to get out of there because it was a nightmare and he was trapped (he said).

It was a horrible, horrible, horrible experience and I wish I had NOT been there but felt it was my duty to HAVE been there. It was not magical. It was NOT peaceful. It was not dignified. He did not go gentle into that goodnight. He DID rage against the dying of the light. I won't ever forget it: but at least it gave my mother the chance to sit by her husband and for them to look (for once) like a devoted old couple when their 50+ years of marriage had been fights and bitching and tears and recriminations and grudges from 1950whatever and sniping at me for all my shortcomings.

Then to make a perfect moment even better, mum starts grabbing all his belongings (he's in the bed still warm), stuffing them into carriers and out the door into the night. No waiting around, no 'debriefing', just out & gone & never went back.

In to the funeral director first thing in the same  morning: dad died Tuesday, funeral Friday 11.11.11 at 11.15.

So sorry, Sparklestars, for your very recent loss. It's 5 months on for me and it feels like yesterday: so many confused emotions and none of them positive.

That's my rant over. First time I wrote it down.

xx S xx

Su I am so sorry your memories are so painful.  I am sending you all my love and hugs because there is nothing else I can do.

5 months on is when I think the bad memories flood in completely erasing anything good and I hope when you come out the other side you will discover that somewhere underneath the bickering and bitching, your parents actually did love and care for each other in their own (strange?) way.  Did they really always snipe at you?  I really do hope that somewhere in your memories you find times when you felt loved and cared for.

I hope that writing down all of your pain has helped rid you of some of the demons.  Do you have a blog?  Perhaps it would help you to write down your feelings in more detail.  It may not but why not give it a go.

Big squidgy hugs and much love,

Nin xxxx

Nin

Thank you so much. I haven't GOT many good memories of either of my parents, but have (after cognitive behavioural  therapy and 100s of antidepressants) come to realise that they were/are strange, sad people who accidentally had a child & didn't quite know what to do... Yes, mum did tell me I was an accident, years ago, and I'm still waiting to hear her say, but we were really pleased!!! (lol) The good side of that coin is that I have showered all 3 of my kids with love and the 4 of us all love each other (even tho they are all teenagers).

As a merry little afterthought, dad was a diy-type and built a breakfast bar in the family home when I was about 12 and always sat between mum and me so she couldn't reach me to kick me. (Ffs).

I am now married to a truly lovely man (a cancer survivor) who loves me and my kids, as I love him and his 3 kids (all grown up and having kids of their own).

I'm not destroyed by my experience of my father's death & the difficult relationship with my mum: it's just achingly sad.

Big & bigger squidgy hugs back to you & I'm so, so sorry about your gorgeous, brave brother

xxxSxxx

Su thank you so much for sharing that very raw time with me....believe it or not, it really does help me to know of your experience....I have been imagining that I would have felt so much better if I had been there at the time he died and torturing myself over that.  To hear your words makes me believe more that is not at all necessarily the case.  I saw my Dad less than 4 hours before he died and like yours he had the strange and disturbing staring eyes...his kept roaming around...fixing on nothing particular for very long....sometimes if I talked they'd fleetingly settle on me but with no real signs of recognition.  His face sometimes had quickly passing expressions on too....as if he was seeing things which I think he was....he didn't look scared but didn't look happy either though startled or surprised sometimes and I think he was not in pain....but it was really disturbing.  I constantly flashback to those awful sights and sounds - he too had that throaty gurgling breathing towards the end on the last day.  I suspect he had many mini strokes (TIA's) which he'd never had before I think, as during the last week of his hospital stay one side of his face gradually slumped down more and more until even his tongue was lolling on one side of his mouth....almost hanging down.  It was like wax melting down and down....horrible to see and so pitiful.  He couldn't say anything really from 2 or 3 days before he died...whether he'd lost the power of speech or was just too 'out of it' I have no idea....but it was awful.  I try desperately to block those days from my mind as I believe allowing the scenes to enter my head too much is the path to madness....which quite often feels very close.

I am so very sorry to hear that you do not at least have the comfort of memories of a good relationship with your Dad to help you through this....but you obviously did love him I feel or else you would not have felt such a need to be there at the end I suspect....?  Some people - especially men and especially from a 'certain' generation - do seem to really struggle to express their feelings or be at all demonstrative....I hope that was perhaps the case if your Dad seemed like that?  I loved my Dad and know how much he loved me....but my parent's marriage was not dissimilar to your parents relationship by the sounds of it.  They were also married 50 years but I feel 'love' flew the nest long ago.  Mom did 'do her duty' in visiting him every day whilst in hospital and doing some of the 'extra stuff' for him there to help him maintain his dignity and appearance (which were important to him) though so that's something.  However, she is no support at all to me....I have lost the Dad I adore but his death has to a certain extent set her free....but she is quite happily sitting down doing nothing and playing the 'helpless' card whilst leaving me running round like a blue ar*ed fly to make all the arrangements.  I do think though that your Mom's reaction to your Dad's death would have broken my heart even more....they may feel that way but I think it's not too much for them to 'pretend' to feel more than they did even if just for their child's sake!  I do not feel emotionally close to my Mom but I do wonder if losing my Dad will change that....probably not!

I'm glad though that through it all you have formed your own loving family and are so close with your own children.  My young daughter is my saving grace through all this and the reason I know I will carry on.  I don't know what I would do without her. 

Thank you again for having the courage to share what is clearly a very painful experience and taking the time to write it down here...it has helped me to read something from the 'other side' of that fence of being there/not being there.  Look after yourself and your lovely family.

XXX