My dad is gone

:tears: damndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamn

 

Just wanted to thank everyone for your kind words and support.

Reality of it hasn't really sunk in yet. And I've been trying to avoid thinking about it but writing's been almost cartharic- making sense of all that's happened.

Early yesterday morning, my dad had been getting ready for work when he felt ill, light headed. Thought he was having a panic attack, didn't want to go to the hospital. My mom urged him on, he felt worse so finally he relented. So my mom went upstairs to get ready, left a note for me (which I haven't bothered to move). She went down, they headed out to the car. And he collapsed on the front porch.

We live on a rural property. My grandfather's paranoid, property's locked at night with a chain too thick for bolt cutters. 911 would've never been able to get up there.

My mom woke me up at five am. Took me a minute but something had to be wrong- she was saying something about Dad, 911. The gate. Soon as I had some idea of what was going on, I ran downstairs. Grabbed my coat. Got the key.

He was sprawled on the porch. Mom was giving him CPR. Nose bleeding, he wasn't breathing.

The gate was down at the bottom of the hill. Takes me five minutes on a good day to walk down it. Don't think I've ever run so fast. Don't feel I was fast enough but it wouldn't have made a difference. Guided the ambulances up to the house. I could hear my mom, pleading for my dad not to die, she wasn't feeling a pulse.

My four year old sister woke up. She'd wandered downstairs. Saw dad. Asked if he was okay, why was he on the ground, why was he sick. I came inside when the paramedics came out. I'm trying to tell her it's okay, dad will be fine but outside I can hear them, the whine of the machines as they're trying to bring him back.

Last I ever saw of my dad, they were loading him onto a stretcher. He died in my mom's arms, on the porch.

It was hours before I heard anything. Fell asleep at one point. Baby sister did as well, once she'd calmed down. Didn't think he was dead but some part of me knew. If you know me, I have an irrational fear of hospitals. I always assume the worst. That's what I thought this was. Thought I was worrying for nothing and he'd come back.

By the time my mom got home, two of my other sisters had gotten up. Didn't tell them, wasn't sure if I should. They had swimming lessons- told them they probably wouldn't be going.

Mom came home with my dad's best friend from college. Think it was then that I knew. Mom came in, she's doing her best to hold herself together. Baby sister's asking if dad's going to be okay.

I went up to wake up my ten year old sister- always a late sleeper. Took her a while to wake up, realize she needed to go downstairs.

When we were all gathered, Mom told us. My dad is dead.

I still can't find it in me to believe it's true.