Seeing my dad in the hospital, unconscious, scared the crap out of me. I even ran out of the room. A male nurse stopped me and asked if he could help. I just looked at him, dazed, and muttered the word, “no.” Could he HELP? Really? Could he wake my dad up so I could talk to him? Could he take all the tubes and whatnot away so I could hug him? Could he bring him back to the person he was before he had a stroke? The answer was no. Maybe he was asking me if I needed help finding a room, or validating my parking. Maybe he had no idea the pain my heart felt at that moment. But even if he did, I knew that nothing could help ease my sadness. Nothing could bring my dad back to me.
I never went back to the hospital after that day. It wasn’t long after I got the news that my dad had passed away. I’ll never forgive myself for not staying there, despite how scary or painful it was for me, and just holding my dad’s hand. I could have talked to him even though he couldn’t talk to me. I could have read to him, or played music, or watching Barney Miller with him. I could have been stronger for him. I’ll never know if me leaving him there alone contributed to him giving up on life, and letting himself go. Did he feel alone and forgotten? Was there something I could have done to keep him here?
I think about all the things I would have done differently now that I’m almost 43 and not just after my 20th birthday. Was I really THAT young and naïve? Was I really still so self-centered that my comfort came before anyone else’s, including my ailing father? Apparently, I was. And, as much as I hate myself for it, and I do, I have to find a way to heal from this pain, because it eats away at me, every single day of my life.
I wrote that a year ago and shared it solely with one of my very best friends. It’s the most I’ve gotten on ‘paper’ for my future book. The one called Tainted Fishsticks. I love how God put this book on my heart years ago and how he’s taking me through a lot of stuff in order to help me see how my hurts can be healed and how through this I can help others.
I miss my Dad every single day. And I’m just starting to work on the healing part of losing him almost 23 years ago. And I wish he was going to be with me this father’s day so I could share all of the cool stuff that’s been happening in my life. And so I could hug him again.
tainted fishsticks 