What we thought was a checkup for the stent that was placed in the connecting vein from the liver to the spleen that once gave us hope recanted its choice Tuesday afternoon.
The afternoon was a lot different than the morning; at lunch the windows down in the car enjoying a book and feeling the warmer air dance through my windows. Around 3pm everything changed and we got hit with another devastating blow. My world my families world as I knew it was never going to be the same.
Instead of passing in the hospital dad had requested to come home to await the end of his journey here on earth. The stent isn’t working to drain out the blockage that rendered us speechless only a few weeks ago. His body told us it had enough and was tired of fighting with 100% kidney failure.
We were told to take him home, give him the morphine along with an anxiety medication that was filled if he wanted to skip the morphine long enough to see family, make him as comfortable as possible until the cancer took him away.
The warrior that had taken on monsters in our closet, a 50+ ft fall, alcoholism, cirrhosis, and diabetes was tired and wavering. With heavy hearts, teary eyes, and trembling hands everyone let him know how much they loved him for being one of a kind.
My heart ached and broke in two looking into his eyes while he lay in bed. I wanted to take the pain, fear, and uncertainty from him and make it my own. I wanted him to feel only the peace and love that filled his room.
At 3:13pm Wednesday The 7th dad took his last breath gently falling to sleep while holding his sisters hand, me with my arms around his chest, a room full of family members that loved him so much we could burst.
I’ve learned a lot from my dad; to be strong was one of those things. Every time I thought I’d lose it I’d pull over my hoody then walk down to the creek in the backyard. I cried with everything in me a few times. That is pain I have never felt in my life.
I can’t explain the numb absent mindedness going on right now. I can’t focus, every thought is hazy; before I realize it I’m already fumbling through another one.