The past year

If anyone truly knows me, they know that I like to joke around and have fun.  They also know that I've changed a bit over the course of this past year.  I've been more distant and closed off.  Well, here's
the reason.  Over the past 12 months I've lost quite a bit of people that are close to me.

This has been a truly difficult topic for me to write about.  It's also the first time I've really talked about it.

It all started on my birthday.  I found out through Facebook of all things, that a friend had recently passed away.  I didn't know the details and slowly began getting them from his older sister.  Well it turns out that he committed suicide by overdose.  I never asked what it was, it was inconsequential and still is.  This guy had been through the first year of Iraq and lost some people close to him.  He was riddled with guilt because one of the guys that died that day had switched seats with him, and that is where his friend died.  That's not something I can imagine is easy to deal with.  I attended his funeral and couldn't believe that he was having these problems.  I had just talked to him a few weeks prior and everything seemed fine.  Not all scars are visible.  Not all casualties of war are on the battlefield.

A months after that, my father had a stroke.  He lost a minimal amount of vision, but other than that he was fine.  They decided to run some checks to just to make sure everything else was ok.  Well, they ended up finding out he had lever cancer.  Now my father didn't have any alcohol problems or anything like that which most people would immediately assume is responsible for any problems with the liver.  From everything I remember going to visit him in the hospital, it sounded like this was a curable condition.

I lost my last remaining grandparent last year also.  I've felt terrible for him for years.  He lost his wife 5 years earlier.  They were always together.  She was his world.  The only thing I can compare it to is the couple from the movie "Up."  So in a lot of ways, i would say that it was good that they are finally reunited.  But at the same time, this was the only set of grandparents I had growing up.  To know that each Christmas that goes by we won't have our large family gatherings at Granpa's is just something that I haven't gotten used to myself.

So months go on where my father is undergoing chemotherapy which is not pleasant on the body.  Basically this medicine that kills the cancer cells also does the same to the rest of your body.  So they are making progress fighting the cancer, but his body is becoming weaker and he is degenerating.  About 6 months into the treatment, over 50% of the cancer is gone.  So everything is going great right?  Well he gets pain in three places in his back:  just at the neck, middle, and lower portions of his spine.  It hurts terribly, so he gets a doctor to look at it.  The cancer has spread in the form of bone cancer to his spine.  It's not all bad news at this point, they can blast it with radiation and get rid of it rather quickly, which they do.

So here I am, enjoying life and checking in at least once a week, more if I can.  I'm thinking everything is going great and he is continuing to recover.  Then April comes along and my mother says that he's back in the hospital again and I should come see him because his kidneys aren't doing so well.  I did get a chance to talk to him on the phone and he sounded ok, just a little tired.  I begin my preparations to come home and make the long drive. 

It takes a day to get home and the entire way I keep getting text messages from family and friends asking how far away I am.  I respond, but then begin to wonder "Are people waiting for me to get there for something."  I finally arrive and meet my mother and sister in the parking lot because it is after hours.  A nurse waiting inside lets us in.  My mother says that my father isn't doing too well and leaves her update at that.  Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.

I didn't even make it into the room before I was in tears.  This man looked almost nothing like my father.  The last time I had seem him on a Skype call he looked much healthier and that was only two months ago!  His eyes lit up and he gave me a big smile because he was so happy to see me.  I gave him the biggest hug I could and had to leave the room because I broke down.  My mother came out to console me.  I couldn't help but tell her that I could not believe that was my father.  This was very painful for me to watch such a strong man and big influence in my life withered away on this hospital bed and having difficulty breathing.  Just me reliving this memory typing this is actually making me cry right now.

People close to my father had been with him all day.  As it was getting late, people began to call it a night and return home.  I decided to stay.  My mother also decided to stay.  I was able to have a conversation with my father that night where I told him how much I loved him and he responded "I know."  It was very difficult for him to say those words to me, but he mustered all the strength he could to say those very important words to me.  He began to sleep at that point.  For all I know he may have been in a coma.  I was too distraught to know what was happening anymore.

My mother slept on the couch in the hospital room and I slept on the floor.  She was worried so much about me and I had to constantly remind her that I would be fine and she needed to take care of herself.  I had woken up several times during the night to tell my father how much I loved him.  I couldn't help but cry almost every time I looked at him.  Why was this happening?  I didn't get any more responses from him, but I know he heard me.  At one point during the night I asked the nurse what she thought.  She said in her experience she believed it would be the next day.

I ended up laying on the couch shortly after breakfast time and slept for a few hours during the day.  I missed a few cousins and family friends stop by.  I awoke to see the priest giving my father his Last Rites.  I knew what this meant, but I still hadn't accepted it yet.  He was not coherent the rest of the day.  My sister had left to get some dinner at home later that evening.  It was just me and mother.  I logged onto Facebook to begin a very long message to family and close family friends outlining the current situation for all those who weren't able to make it.  As I was about to hit the send button, I noticed my sister had returned.  The three of us made small chat for a bit.  As my mother and sister began talking, I looked back down to the laptop to send my message.  I read over it quickly to make sure everything was in there.

Then I looked up.  His breathing patterns were becoming much shallower.  I spoke up and said "He's going."  We all stood up and gathered around his bed.  As his breathing became much slower, we all told him how much we loved him and gave him our goodbyes.  Then it stopped.  He had left us.  I broke down terribly at this point.  I did not want to accept this.  My mother had to leave to go to the bathroom because she was becoming sick.  I felt terribly for her.  She had just lost her husband, the love of her life, her husband of 32 years.  I closed my father's eyes for the last time.

A few minutes later, a friend of mine from growing up was a nurse on this floor.  She came in and immediately broke down.  She was a friend growing up and had a good relationship with my parents.  Both her and the other nurse volunteered to take care of what needed to be done.  I changed a few key words on the email I was about to send out to update people, to give them a more accurate update following his passing.  I clicked send and closed the laptop.  After a few more moments, we composed ourselves and I drove my mother home.  The house was quiet.  Eerily quiet.  We really had no words.  What could we say?  Nothing felt right anymore.  Nothing felt real.  My father was only 59 years young and had so much life ahead of him.

I broke down several times that night, the next day, and throughout the week.  It was a roller coaster of emotions.  At the drop of a hat I would cry my eyes out.  It would often come from a picture, a memory, or just seeing a father with their child.

I still question why.  Why did this happen?  Why did it happen to him?  I try to avoid the question of why did it happen to me because I feel that is selfish.  I really hate the fact that we lost such a great person.  He was always happy and could find fun in anything.  He always smiled and laughed frequently.  He had tons of friends from all across the country and was able to meet people easily. 

The funeral was hard for me.  I tried to be strong and write an honorable eulogy.  I managed about one sentence into it before I completely broke down once again, this time in front of a packed funeral home full of people who loved my father.  I had some help reading what I gathered to say, and eventually worked myself back into reading my speech.  It was hard and there were several times when I had to take a long break to get through what I had to say.  Dammit, now I am crying again just thinking of this.

I find myself getting angry sometimes over this whole ordeal.  Why him?  Why couldn't we save him?  I did receive a revelation from a close family friend that he knew it was terminal from the onset.  He never told me because he knew I couldn't handle it.  I cannot and never will hold that against him.  However, I felt bad that I wasn't there all the time.  Had I known I would have quit my stupid job and been there everyday.  I hate myself for that.  I feel like there is so much we could have done together and will never get the chance to.  There is nothing that can fill this hole I have in my heart.  I can't fucking stand it some days.  And I'm crying again.  I have to blow my nose.

It's coming up on the one year anniversary of his passing.  I know it will be a rough day for me.  His birthday was rough.  Christmas was even harder.  I cannot stand the thought of my mother in that big dream house all alone.  It doesn't feel right when I walk in the door and he is not there to greet me with a open arms and a huge hug.  Nothing feels normal anymore.

Needless to say, I know that I've become detached from things.  I cannot explain these feelings I have to anyone.  This is really the first time I have ever "spoken" about it.  Little things still set me off.  For example, I went to the movies two weeks ago and saw an elderly man with his son who was in his 30s or 40s.  I immediately thought that's how things were supposed to go.  We were still supposed to have time together.  I went into the bathroom and cried.

Another friend of mine was killed in a vehicle accident shortly after that.  Things just can't seem to go on smoothly.  I am beginning to wonder if I am a bad omen for people around me.  The icing on the cake is my cat dies out of nowhere.  There was no decline in health and she wasn't an old cat.  Just stopped eating one day, then next she stopped playing, then she just dies.  I can't win for losing.  Then another family friend that helped influence me growing up dies in Afghanistan.  When will the loss end?

So for a quick recap, within the past 2 years, my family is down to my mother, sister, 1 aunt and uncle, and 4 cousins.  That's it.  It hasn't been a good last few years for my family.

I've detached myself from people quite a bit.  I don't think anybody has been hit this hard within this short a period of time that can console me in any meaningful manner.  Yeah, there are people that can relate to one, maybe a couple of these incidents.  But not all within a 12 month period of time.  My emotions have been turned off for a long time. 

There have been some good friends in my life who continuously offer words of strength, encouragement, and support.  A friend of mine, John, said that in especially troubled times he often refers to a biblical verse.  I cannot recall but I think it is Psalm 23.  Now I am not an overly religious person.  I have not been to mass in years, even though I promised myself I would go on Christmas.  The more I think about what that phrase said, I think it carries more weight.  I have been in some dark times recently, but I will survive.  At least that is my interpretation, which may be completely wrong, but that's how I see it.

I've been coming out of my protective shell slowly.  I won't get close to anyone.  I need to get my emotions under control and allow myself to accept the loss in my life before I can focus on building relationships.  Besides, I have had plenty of trouble in my love life department to warrant that from continuance for awhile.  I feel vulnerable now that I offered up this story.  I can't go into another deep one now.  That's going to have to be a story for another time.