Ten Years Ago Today

Today marks the 10th Anniversary of my father's passing.  My mom and brother were by his side as he took his last breath.  That night, I was in one of my first two Doctoral classes. (He was so excited to have a "Doctor" in the family.) When class ended, because I was having issues with my contacts, which were fogging up, I drove down the street to my aunt and uncle's place.  I took care of my contacts and then had my Uncle drive my aunt and I to the hospital.  By the time we got there, he was gone.

Had my uncle driven faster, it seemed like we were creeping down the highway, or had I not had issues with my contacts, I might have been there in time. I could have not gone to class, but I found that whole week that I needed routine in order to keep it together.  I went to work, taught my students, went to class, did my work . . . everything had to stay the same in order for me to maintain control. Mom wanted me to make my own decision, so she sort of let me know what was happening, but she never said, "Get over here, now" or anything like that.

The last time I saw my dad, it was like I knew, so I said my "good-byes" then.  I don't regret not being there at that very moment he breathed his last.  I hope my mother and brother don't hold it against me or are not mad in some way because I wasn't there like they were.  Maybe it was selfish of me to handle the whole situation the way I did, but I had to do what I needed to do for me, so I thought. (Weird, how this is one of the absolute few times I did what I felt I needed to do for me.)

The Wednesday of Spring Break in 2003, he had a headache, and it didn't go away.  He didn't seek medical attention until Friday.  When he did, the doctors transported him to a larger hospital. At this point, he had some therapy, but he really had no signs of a stroke, not like you think of . . . no use of left side, difficulty speaking, etc.  He was in ICU, but everything seemed pretty good for a stroke.  On Sunday evening, we took turns visiting with him, talking, etc.  We got permission for my nephew, 19 months, to go inside to visit.  Just after my brother walked about of the room carrying my nephew, a vision I still see clearly, my father had a stronger stroke, from which he didn't' recover. We had to make a decision whether or not we wanted the doctors to go in and clear his arteries in his neck.  I think I believed that he would recover or have a better chance of recovery if we chose to do the procedure.  We did choose to do it, so they wheeled him into surgery.  The last time I visited, he was not aware of his surroundings.  He really wasn't there.  He constantly would pick up his arm as to look as his watch, but since there was no watch, he would look at the clock on the wall.  Over and over and over and over and over, he did this.  After a few days, we had to decide what to do next.  Do we leave him on the machines and hope he gets better or do we choose to turn the machines off?  The doctors couldn't give us an hopeful solutions. We knew my father wouldn't want to live like that, so we made the decision to turn off the machines.

10 years. A lot happens in ten years.  A lot happens when you lose a loved one. We've added my niece, had many trying times, watched my niece and nephew grow into the amazing young people they are, lost my grandmother, changed jobs, and more.  Life changes in 10 years.  Life changes when you lose a loved one.

I know there are things I have done in the last 10 years that have made my father smile down on me.  There have been times that I have really wished he were here so I could ask him about a song, a play in a sporting event, who someone was, why something was the way it was. I wonder what life would have been like these last 10 years if he had not had a stroke. 

I wish my niece and nephew had gotten to know him.  It is funny. My nephew was 19 months old when my dad passed away, but my nephew still remembers things about him and what they did together.  I try to tell my niece about him since she never met him.  Whenever I can, I tell them things he did or said and how proud he is of them.

My dad's birthday was Halloween. When I was little, we would have cake and ice cream before going Trick-or-Treating.  For several years, I would get cookies or cupcakes, and my niece, nephew, and I would go to his gravesite and talk to him, tell stories, and celebrate his birthday. I miss doing that with them.

10 years. 10 years is a long time. 10 years is also a very short time.