Quote Originally Posted by BabySnookums
my worst day was when my dad passed away...

when i was younger he was passing blood in his urine. he went to the ER and, with us being poor, they did NO tests, and told my parents they were cheating on each other and he had an STD, or he wasn't keeping clean enough. my parents had to haul water for us to live on, and we lived in a travel trailer. they always made sure i had what i needed, and my dad often went without so we had stuff. but anyways...flash forward a few years...he tried to get disability, but they denied him, citing that since he could drive my mom to the store each month he was perfectly healthy.

then in 2003 he got really really miserably sick. his stomach was hurting him horribly, and he was still passing blood. we went to an ER in another place (we had moved) and they did a blood test or something and the doctor walks in and kinda nonchalontly says "you've got cancer" when my dad said "well doc?"

my dad burst into tears, holding my mom and saying "20 years isn't enough". i tried not to cry in front of them, cuz seeing me losing it would've made it worse for the both of them.

my dad ended up having his bladder removed (fist sized tumor) and the remnants of his right kidney removed (that's what the "blood" he'd been passing was...pieces of his kidney...fuckin STD my ass >< ) and was given an ostomy bag. he took chemo, and was on pain meds, which werent even taking the edge off.

every night i'd hear him crying in pain, begging god to just take him away. he'd cry saying he wanted to go home (home was in Texas, and we were living in Arkansas) but he couldn't even survive a trip even if we could've moved.

he was in and out of the hospital, and finally came home. i was supposed to wake up early one morning to have breakfast with them before his next thing of chemo, but the night before i'd spent at a "friends" house (something i never should've done, as well) and by the time i came crawling home in the wee hours of the morning, i was too sleepy to get up. i remember sort of opening my eyes when they went out the front door, and i dont even think i said bye.

i got home from work that afternoon only to find out when he'd went for his chemo, they found that it'd worsened or spread or something. he had to immediately be admitted. i saw him a few times after that. i went and visited a bit, and then me and my now-husband decided to get married, and i moved back to texas, while my dad was still in the hospital.

our ex-landlord went to visit my dad and took me and my husband with him, and we stayed the night in my dads room with him. my mom begged me to stay for a week or so, but i was scared of seeing my dad like this, and i declined. the next day my dad came home, and they had a hospital bed at home for him to stay in. i went home (Texas) and the next week, i get woke up by a knock on our door. it was the phone...for me...and it was an emergency....

my mom was crying...dad died 3 hours ago, she said...but she waited 3 hours so she wouldn't wake me up too very early. i got the info bout the funeral and all that and we said our goodbyes. i was hysterical and panicing. finally i called my half-sister...i was like omfg...i have to call her and tell her our dads dead. i cant do this! (my dad had 2 ex wives and 2 other daughters...he'd been in the process of rekindling a relationship with his oldest when he passed, so his dream of being in a room w/all 3 off us never happened) i told her and then cried all day long...only stopping to get FUBAR'd on Triple C's (DONT TAKE THEM THEY'RE NOT SAFE!)

went to the funeral, got FUBAR'd again upon coming home. i stayed kinda catatonic for a month...then found out i was pregnant...decided to honor my dad by naming the lil boy after him...the day we found out it was a boy, was the day that my husbands little brother was murdered...so we named our son after both.

sad but sweet thing is...my dad was already becoming cold...death was setting in...and he threw up on himself...my mom cleaned him...she leaned close to him, he said "i love you" and died....

his dying thoughts were of her and his love for her. i think that is the sweetest thing ever.

the time from his diagnosis to death was 8 months...

it isnt' easier on anyone, whether its drawn out like his was, or quick like my husbands brother....but at least us losing someone over a period of time are able to "prepare" (as much as one can) for losing them. people who are killed, its too sudden. but either way...it takes awhile to sink in...both me and my husband said after losing our loved ones "it doesn't feel real"

sorry for writing a novel...i just needed to get this out...i've been having memories rushing back to the surface...felt it time to let them escape
Im so sorry for what happened to you, I know nothing I can say really means anything, but at least hes in a better place now with god.