Grieving

It has been almost 1 year since I received the call from my mom that my dad was in the hospital and that it appeared he had cancer. I am finally feeling ready to talk about this and write about this…even though it doesn't honestly feel totally real.

December 7, 2012 my family and I had just had our family photos taken. We were on our way home when the phone rang. I answered and never could have imagined what was about to unfold. I knew something was wrong from the tone in my mom's voice. I remember thinking it was a big joke. I remember trying not to get upset because my kids were in the back of the car. I remember talking to my siblings on the phone and none of us really quite knew what to say or how to react.

We weren't just told he had cancer. We were told that it was very serious and didn't look good. My dad had been seen in the ER in August…the 13th to be exact. I found paperwork months later that had been in his truck with the date from that visit.

What unfolded over those next 2 months and 6 days was hard. My dad was in the hospital for a few days but ended up back in the hospital shortly thereafter. The hospital ultimately told him there was nothing they could do for him and wanted to start Hospice. He was given one option though to go to Oregon and he took it. He and my mom spent a few weeks in Oregon where they were able to confirm he had Colon Cancer and it was Stage 4. He had to have his Colon resected.

I flew to Oregon a couple of days after Christmas. I missed my original flight but was able to get on another one later in the day. My mom picked me up at the airport and we went to the hospital to get my dad and Aunt Mary because my dad was being discharged and released to a hotel. He needed to get stronger in order to go home to Alaska. I will never forget seeing my dad for the first time. He had aged at least 20 years.

It was hard being in Oregon. It was hard seeing my dad like that. There were still flickers of his grumpy personality that would pop out. He snapped at me a few times and it was really hard to not take it personally. I remember sitting in the bathroom crying wondering why I was there. I remember thinking it would be better to not have my last memories of my dad mad at me. Considering the outcome for my dad, I am forever grateful and thankful that I was able to be there with him and my mom.

On New Year's Eve, I headed home to Colorado to be with my kids and Steve. That was the hardest goodbye I have ever had. I knew that is was the last time I would ever be able to hug my dad again and talk to him in person. How do you get on a plane knowing you will never see someone again??? I cried in the airport. I cried through security…and I cried even more when my shirt set of the detector and had to be patted down. Thankfully my flight back was in First Class so I felt like I could blend in a little bit more easily.

My parents, after a lot of fighting and prayer, got back home to Alaska in January. My dad was hoping to do chemo. I remember talking to my mom on the phone about this. I remember thinking why he would do chemo and felt guilty for letting those thoughts cross my mind. My gut knew it would not help him. He was dying and very close to it. The day he was supposed to go in to begin chemo (and I question whether that was why he was going to the hospital that day), he couldn't get down the stairs in my parents house. Ultimately he made the decision not to do chemo.

That phone call was hard. Although I knew deep down chemo really wasn't an option, the second he really wasn't going to do it was very hard. For me it meant the end of fighting. I know he made the right decision. Chemo would have ravaged his body more than it already had.

My sister and brother flew to Alaska 1 week before my dad passed away. I remember seeing photos that were posted of my dad and talking to my mom about how he was doing. He was holding on for them to get to Alaska but when they left to go home, I imagine he felt like he could let go because Tuesday he rapidly started to deteriorate. I messaged my mom a lot. I booked my ticket to leave for Alaska but knew I could not get home in time to be with him.

 I was not sleeping well. I routinely woke up each night at the same time…3 am. I woke up Wednesday morning and could not go back to sleep. I went out to the living room and got on the computer and watched tv. I messaged my mom at some point and she was telling me what his O2 levels were. After having our daughter on oxygen, I learned quickly about when oxygen is needed.

We messaged back and forth and then my kids got up. I proceeded to check messages and help them with breakfast. I yelled at Natalie that morning. I was so angry about what was happening. As I was yelling, something came over me and I became calm. Little did I know that my dad was very close to leaving this world while this was going on in my home.

I left the house to get everyone off to school and to take Natalie and Kodie to the orthodontist. I had just left the school when my phone rang. It was my mom's friend calling to tell me my dad had just passed away. I drove to the orthodontist and got the girls checked in. I called Steve and texted a couple of my friends and told them. I was in shock. My dad's death did not hit me right away. It was the day before Valentine's day. We gave our kids their gifts and I packed for an early Thursday morning departure.

I arrived to Anchorage about the same time as my sister coming from Utah and one of my dad's coworkers picked us up. I remember arriving to my parent's house. It felt strange being there and more strange not having my dad there…but it did not feel real.

I remember getting ready for the visitation. I didn't know if I would go in and see him one last time or not. I went in with my sister and I broke down for the first time seeing him laying in the coffin. He did not look like the dad I knew growing up. As the visitation came to a close, I remember telling my mom it felt wrong to leave him there. I know that his soul was not in his body but it felt wrong to leave him.

The day of his funeral, I was a mess. We had arrived to the church and I was sitting there and saw a car pull up. I thought it was the hurst…it was not but it triggered something in me and the tears began. The Color Guard (I think that's the name) arrived and decisions were being made. I cried as they brought my dad in. They were so careful and did a beautiful job but it was so sad to see. I remember watching my dad's coworkers arrive to the church. I watched them approach his casket one last time so they could say their goodbyes. I remember being in awe of how many people arrived. My dad touched many people's lives and I had no idea just how important he was to others.

I spent time in Alaska helping my mom with things for about a week. Each night we talked about strange it felt. It felt like something/someone was missing. The house had an eery quietness about it.

It has been almost 10 months since his passing. My parent's anniversary, father's day, my dad's birthday, and Thanksgiving have all come and gone. Christmas is approaching and I do not feel like celebrating or decorating. We will decorate because I am doing it for my kids. We are headed to Tucson to see my mom for Christmas this year. I can't imagine a better way to spend it for the first Christmas without my dad.

I am struggling. I have days where I am okay but I have many days where I am sad and miss my dad. I am starting to realize this is real even though it doesn't feel real at the same time. I am starting to realize that a grief group is probably a good idea. I need to talk about this but I know people are probably tired of hearing about it. I know everyone has moved on that wasn't directly impacted by this and I understand that…but I am not ready to move on.

I know it will get easier somehow but I think I will always be grieving in some way.