A year ago today, my father died. He was walking home from Denver General Hospital, where he’d gone to the emergency room to have a tooth pulled, when he collapsed on the sidewalk. An ambulance then rushed him back to Denver General, where he later died of natural causes.
Aside from my father’s death, I feel horrible for whomever watched my father collapse, for whomever rushed to his aid and called the ambulance–that must have been a terribe, terrible site . . . to watch a stranger in pain, to perhaps have some intuitive sense that this stranger was going to die. I wonder if my father knew he was about to die. He always told me he wasn’t scared of death, which is a sentiment I find very amusing. I don’t think too many people are scared of death–it’s the dying that frightens us.
I wish his death saddened me, but it was for the best. He was living alone, living in a delusional fantasy land, and quickly going broke. Soon enough, he would have been living on the street. What saddens me more is his life, because he had the potential to be such a wonderful human being, but he wasted it on feeling sorry for himself. He was so afraid to fail that he simply refused to participate in his own life. If he didn’t participate, then he wouldn’t have to blame himself for anything that went wrong.
A year later, I can’t say that I feel much different about his death. We had been estranged for years. I do hope, however, that he’s at peace, something he never had in life.
Comments
6 Comments
Puddlemonkey,
I hope that he has found peace.
How are you doing?
Thanks, Blair. I’m fine. I ended my relationship with my father in 1999, because that was what I needed to do to find peace. I wanted him in my life, but he simply caused me so much pain and grief that it was disruptive. I eventually realized that I needed to do what was best for me.
My father lived only a few blocks from me, and there are still days when I expect to see him strolling through the neighborhood, and I have to take a minute to process the fact that he’s dead. I guess when I think about my father what I feel most is just sadness–sadness that he wasn’t interested in his children’s lives, sadness that he wasn’t even interested in participating in his own life.
PuddleMonkey,
I too had to come to peace with a relationship with my father. It always amazes me how painful it can be.
I was also interested in knowing how your spinning episodes and the diuretic situation was going?
I’m doing 100% better, Blair. Thanks for asking. After taking a diuretci for 20 days, I no longer experience motion sickness while in the car or walking, etc. I did, however, have a couple of bad episodes while at work, sitting at my desk and focusing on the computer. So I returned to the doctor and asked that I be given a 20-day course of antibiotics to fight off a bad sinus infection since the dizziness seemed to be more a symptom of sinus pain and pressure. I’ve since finished the antibiotic and feel like myself again. I do still experience moments of dizziness while I’m working, but they’re just "moments" as opposed to "episodes." So hopefully that’s the end of that.
How come we don’t see you around the clubhouse much anymore?
I am so glad to hear that you are feeling better. I would stop and look for updates by missed the semi cardinal blog rule of checking comments.
Motherhood makes it tough to think well enough to post something thoughtful at ye olde clubhouse. I get there when I can. But there doesn’t seem to be much that I feel I can reply to… I think it must be the motherhood thing, changes everything during the pregnancy and then sloooooooooooooooowly you get back to normal (like when they are 18 or 35).
I imagine that motherhood leaves little time for the Internet. From what I’ve seen of your blog, what time you do spend on the Internet you’ve devoted to a better use . . . writing about your own experiences, especially during your pregnancy. I hope other expectant mothers have been able to benefit from your insights.
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