My heart feels heavy as I write this blog. My father lost his battle with cancer on Sunday. My last memory of him is not a good one. Seeing him gasp for breath, listening to the suction machine and watching him literally waste away before my eyes are not the way I wanted to remember him. It was God's will though. God knew that I would have preferred tucking him away in a nursing facility. Yet nowadays nursing facilities appear to be the last resort. It is only if you have enough funds to place the person in one or that person has no one at home to take care of them.
Yes, I admit that I was angry. I wanted to scream, "It's just not fair!" I actually lost control a couple times in January and February. Right now all I feel is numb. I don't want to remember my Dad in that hospital bed gasping for breath. I don't want to remember Dad unconscious and being carried out for the last time. Yet those images are my memories now.
I do struggle to get past those horrible images. I tell myself that he is home with the Lord. I tell myself that he is not suffering now. Yet here I am. What can I say? I loved him. It was the only reason why I got over my anger and took over the household duties. Dad knew that Mom just wasn't capable of doing it. My older brother wasn't able to do it either, at least not by himself.
I can be grateful though for all the support my family has given me. Lord knows that I needed it. My financial situation is still very bleak too. I go back now after a brief mourning period to find work to sustain myself and the two people that are now depending on me. I don't know what the next months will bring. I can't think that far ahead. I just need to take this one day at a time.
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