My name is Dorothy, I'm 36 and I'm writing about the loss of my Dad. The anniversary of his death is July 17th. He will be gone 4 years and I miss him as much now as I did the day he died. I was six months pregnant with my third child and am so broken hearted that he never got too see him. My three sons will be missing out on a wonderful Grandfather.
My father was a good man. My mother has Multiple Sclerosis. She has been in a nursing home since 1969. They had a true fairytale courtship. They met at a place in upstate NY called "Dreamland Farm." I'm told by other family members that there had never been a couple more in love then they were. When Mom went away she took a big part of my Dad with her. He tried to fill that space with alcohol. Daddy raised My brother, sister & myself alone. He did the best he could. He was an only child himself and knew nothing about raising girls. He relied on advice from my Grandmother who was in her 70's at the time. The teenage years did not go well. I am the middle child and was always sort of a black sheep, I rebelled in any way possible. During those years Daddy and I could barely stand to be in the same room with each other,nevermind have a conversation.
As the years went by Dad's drinking got worse. Before I go any further I want to say that his drinking was his problem, he was the most functional alcoholic I have ever seen. Never missed a day of work or any event that was important to us. I remember when my first son was born Daddy was so worried, I had Toxemia and was considered high risk. He drove the nurses nuts. My husband was not allowed in the delivery room because the doc. was concerned about complications, and the possibility of an emergency C. Section. When my son was finally born (after22hrs.) the nurse went out and said the father could come in. My dad went flying by my husband and the nurse stopped him to explain that the Babies father could come in. All my Dad could think about was his baby.
The next few years after that we became very close. He was crazy about his grandson. He saw me through a divorce, 3years of single parenthood, walked me down the aisle again and enjoyed his second grandson just as much as the first.
Daddy had never been a healthy man as far back as I could remember. He had severe Phlebitis with numerous stays in the hospital and many surgeries. There were times he could not walk at all. I hospitalized him in 1988 so he could get treatment to be able to walk my sister down the aisle.
Daddy spent fathers day 1996 with my sister upstate. She told me he was sick the entire weekend and she was worried about him. I called him immediately and made him make an appointment with his vascular surgeon thinking his medication needed to be adjusted. He had an appointment on July 9th. he was supposed to call me when he got home. The call never came. I called his house repeatedly getting no awnser. I called his Doctor and was told that he was admitted to the hospital and I needed to get over there. I could not believe the condition I found him in he was in ICU, jaundiced, had difficulty breathing, extremely dehydrated. His Dr. met me their and we went for a walk.
I was told this time was not the Phlebitis but end stage liver disease. I was told that he would probably be gone by the fall. Well, they were wrong. Daddy called me On July 16th in excruciating pain, I got in touch with his doctor who said she would go give him a little morphine immediately. I called him back and stayed on the phone with him untilhe got the shot and it began to work. I told him I would be there as soon as I could but he told me no because of my condition (6months pregnant and borderline toxemia already) he wanted me to rest and come tomorrow. he was beginning to get relief from the morphine and said "I'm better, now you go rest" I said "OK but I'll be there first thing in the morning" he said "Ya know I love ya babe" I said "I Love you to so much". That was the last thing Iwe ever said to each other. I got a call at 3am from the coldest person I had ever metwho said "Your father "expired" at 2:53am a doctor will be calling you later regarding an autopsy". The rest of the story is just a living nightmare.
There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of him and have an ache in my heart that nothing will ever fix. My oldest son (11) remembers his grandpa and tells stories about him to his brothers. He figures this way they will remember him too.
Each year that passes I keep waiting for the pain and emptiness to lessen, but it doesn't. The holidays are naturally the hardest that was daddy'd favorite time of year because we would all be together and he could see all his grandchildren at once. I spend a good part of the holidays in the bathroom crying because I don't want my kids to see me.
I talk to him alotabout the kids achievements, my problems,and the fact that I miss him so much I could scream. I know he hears me and there have been times I swear I could actually feel his presence. My father was a wonderful man and This world is a lesser place without him.
I Miss You Daddy, & I Love You So Much!