New Way of Life

My last post was this day last year, which was my first Father's Day without my Daddy. I wish I could say that I truly felt any kind of emotion that day, or say that I had even started to grieve his death at that point. Truthfully, I made my own mess and found myself on a roller coaster of ups and downs that eventually ended with me flying off the ride and having to admit that I am indeed an addict, I suffer from the disease of addiction. Instead of dealing with my Daddy's death. even a little bit, my mind innately shuts all forms of feeling off so that I am in a numb state of autopilot. I would then use chemicals, substances, people, places, and things; anything to make my state of numbness become fun for even a short amount of time. I've been through Hell and back again since the last time I posted... and I am grateful for my journey.

Today, my mind still innately went numb, but I had times that emotion broke through. "Progress, not perfection." I just keep telling myself how proud he must be of me, as long as I keep doing the next right thing. I know that all he ever wanted for me, was for me to be happy; and with every passing day, I just get happier and happier. I don't think anything, or anyone, is worth losing what I have right now.

My Daddy was a man of routine, of integrity, of simplicity. I can clearly see his face when I close my eyes, I can hear his laugh within me as I laugh, I can feel his love in everything I do. He is with me. He never asked for much, and always thought that he was burdening us with his needs, when in reality everything I ever did to care for him... I never gave any of it a second thought because I just wanted to be with him, and anything I could do to extend his life here on earth, I was going to do it. Today, I am willing to do the same thing for myself.


I am loving this new way of life.

Father's Day

My first father's day without my father...

What a freaking weird statement to say, it just doesn't feel real. I can simply close my eyes and see him smiling at me and know that where ever his spirit is, he is watching over me. I know that he has been with me lately as I work through some big life changes within myself, learning about myself. This probably won't ever get any easier, but I will just keep trying.

Miss him so SO much.

Cancer Changes You

I have finally gotten to the point in my grieving process that I can reflect on my journey and on my successes, and one big thing that comes from this clarity is that I can be honest with myself about my belief system--- because it has changed immensely. I can now own my new beliefs and be confident in the why's and how's and be happy with where I am and who I am now.

About a year before Daddy was diagnosed, I went through some crazy shit in my life that almost ruined me, this is when I first started doubting God and the faith I had been raised with. Before then, I was raised Roman Catholic and went to church every week with my mother and brother. So when Daddy was diagnosed, I already had doubts--- they just became more real. Now I believe in the rotation of the earth, and the ever changing state of life. Nothing else is permanent in this life, anything can change at any point in time, it doesn't matter what you think or how hard you want to believe in something, it can literally change and become something completely different at any point. I believe in second chances, and in forgiveness when it is deserved. I believe in the trying to take advantage of every second of life, of being present in each passing moment, never letting a second go by without being thankful for this life. I breathe in and out and I wake up in the morning, and I know that there is meaning to this life, whenever I find what exactly my meaning is... but no rush, I am determined to enjoy the ride. I believe in doing no harm to others, in lifting up people in need---even a stranger on the street. Nothing is more important in life than making others happy, but without forgetting to make yourself happy. At the end of the day, we are all going to leave this earth, and I don't want to have any regrets, I don't want to have any experiences passed by or chances not taken. Gambling on new experiences can have consequences, but I would much rather deal with the consequences than the regret of not trying to begin with. I want to be old and in my rocking chair and be able to say that I lived my life to the fullest I could with the cards I was dealt. I believe too many people go through life trying to make some perfect life, live up to some standard, when none of that matters... the only thing that matters is being able to do the things that make you smile. Life is unfair, the fact that cancer exists is a reiteration of this fact. No point in being angry at it, it is what it is, sure a cure might be in our species future, and it might not, deal with all the struggles that life throws at you head on---show life no mercy---it's yours to make, not the other way around.

Don't count the days, make the days count.

My Daddy taught me this, he didn't start living it until he was sick, but his battle showed me that you can't wait until it's too late, you have to live by this every day--- or you will find yourself grabbing for it, too little too late. I can't bring him back, but I promise that I will live by this, live through this, live in the moment, every second of every day. Until I get to join him in whatever afterlife there may be, and if/when I do, I will be able to hug him, say thank you, and honestly tell him that I did it, I survived, I conquered, I lived.

Numb lately

It's been ever increasing, this sense of no senses... Numb. Lately the only things I can feel are when I am in physical pain or when I am hungry or tired... No other emotions, unless someone happens to make me laugh. I can only imagine it's this never ending process of grief changing who I am again. It seems like every time I get through one hurdle and adapt, another one comes along ... It's scary to say but I am actually rethinking a lot about my life now because I'm not the same person I was almost 3 years ago when Daddy was diagnosed, I'm not even the same person I was 8 months ago when he died, I'm learning to know this new person, but I wish I had the opportunity and the freedom to truly explore her the way I'd like to... To escape from life for a while, spread my wings and learn to fly on my own once again, just to know that I'm strong enough to do so, to just breathe.

I actually wrote my first poem in over a year today, think I'll post it here tomorrow though, if you follow me on Facebook you will find it there :)

Be well.

Life has changed

Seems ridiculous to say, but after 8 months without my father I actually feel stronger today than I ever have before. My mother and brother are still working out their kinks of how to survive without him, but me, I'm okay. I really am, I get it now, I know how I want to live my life and whatever comes from that is just fine by me... Because I will know that I have lived it to my fullest. My Daddy tried not to comment on the things he wished he could've done before he got sick, but when he would, I just made mental notes to myself, to remind me to reevaluate my life values when ever I felt comfortable enough to own them... And now I think I am. I know that I never want to have regrets, I never want to have a chance I didn't take, I never want to pass up an experience that could be incredible. If that means negative repurcussions than so be it, that's the way of the world, but I will be happy and know that I lived as much as I possibly could. I need to travel, that takes $$$, but maybe one day I'll be able to... I want to see the world and meet new people and grab life. I don't want to just walk through life anymore, I want to experience it, truly experience it. Watching my father whither away at the age of 56 was just so incredibly awful, and I survived that right? There's no way I can't survive anything else life throws at me. Just my rant for today... I could go on for hours but I won't lol.

haven't written in months....

I apologize to any readers who have been disappointed that I have not written since Valentine's Day. I have been trying really hard to keep myself busy and pushing forward over the past 8 months. Today I felt the need to blog in order to get through this day. I have felt my father's presence a lot lately, encouraging me and guiding me, letting me know that I am making the right choices for myself, no matter what others may think. I can see him in my dreams and feel him in my heart---sometimes weighing it down and sometimes lifting it up. I am just so baffled today, but how I ever made it this far. I honestly have no idea where the strength has been coming from, I still doubt myself every day, I know that at any point my knees could buckle under me and I could fall to the ground in complete pain and sadness. Somehow I have managed to wake up, work, workout, sleep, repeat... sometimes with some fun and relaxation included too which is a miracle at times... I'm amazed. Then there are other days, like today, where I could feel the sadness that the 27th of the month brings, since mid last week, where other months it's just a thought when I see the date. Today it's much more, and I just keep telling myself that if I can get through the day, and get to my pillow, that everything will be alright.

Valentine's Day

Daddy never did much for Valentine's Day, maybe he would buy Momma her favorite chocolates, and sometimes even a new book. But as long as I knew him, he never went over the top for the holiday. Anyways, I decided it had been too long since I had gone to see him... then I realized I hadn't been to see him since Christmas... so I hadn't been there this year at all, what the hell is wrong with me. How could I possibly do that? I don't know, but I felt horrible. Ken and I got him a small balloon and some roses to stick into the snow, the snow that the church had not bothered to clear, and mine were the only footsteps in it... no one had been to the cemetary at all since the snow... how awful a thought. I climbed through the snow to Daddy's spot on the columbarium, and the wreath that someone (not sure who) had sent for Christmas was there, along with the bells and flowers we had brought for Christmas. All completely dead, all still there... what the heck. I vowed then and there that I would never let this much time go by ever again.


Then I realized if Ken and I get our way with what we want our future to look like at the end of this year, it would be even longer periods of time before I got to see Daddy... this thought makes my stomach churn. His spot in the columbarium doesn't even have his name on it yet (nameplates are only made and placed in the spring and summer time for whatever reason..dumb) and I'm the only person that had been to see him in 2 months time... who will come see him if I don't live here anymore? I can't think about that now, but I just had to write it out and get it out of my head for the time being.


It's been a rough couple of days over this, hopefully the week gets better.


<3

updates

I haven't been able to visit him lately... It is so hard to stare at the spot on the columbarium where I know his ashes (and a piece of Yankee stadium) are, when there is no marker. After the funeral and the wedding, we just didn't have to money to pay for the plaque with his name and days of birth and death. So I just stare at the gray marble... and talk to my Daddy.

He hasn't met Gibbs yet, but I know he would have loved him... such an energetic puppy, I wish Gibbs could have brought him some added happiness at the end of his life.

Just a lot that has been going on with my family and I, things at my mother's house aren't getting any better because my brother refuses to act on...well, anything. I have started to draw my lines with the situation, because let's face it... I'm married now, I might not have kids, but I'm married now. MY home should my first priority, I can't run two households, but my brother won't lift a finger.

Ken and I are planning to move into my grandfather's house in Florida as soon as possible. I know that my mother is absolutely terrified of being alone with Brian, but maybe this is just what they needed to finally force them into some kind of action to make their situation better for one another... I mean, they have to live together!!!



Other than that, not much has changed in these past months, there are still situations every day that I say, " I wish I could call Daddy and ask him/tell him about this." It is still every day that I start to dial his phone number to talk to him.. going from talking to someone 5 or more times a day, to never... let alone everything else that comes with a death. I am still in awe of others who have lived through this before me, in absolute awe.

Monday

Monday's usually suck as it is, but this Monday (even though I will be in FL), will suck even more.
Why is that? ... it will mark 4 months.

4 whole months.

I don't even know how so much time has passed, it feels like I blinked... yet every time I truly do blink, I can see my father's smiling face. I can literally hear his voice without even concentrating. I pray that this never changes... my mother has yet to cancel his phone line because we want to be able to call his voicemail and hear "Hi this is Gregory Lehnert, I am not able to answer the phone right now, please leave a message and I will get back to you." I can't explain why, it is just comforting.

4 months.

I've never been away from either of my parents for that long, ever.
This just isn't getting any easier, and I can't fathom how people find people find true happiness after a piece of their being dies, gone forever.

This weekend I will be on my mini honeymoon with my wonderful husband, a much needed distraction and vacation. I just wish I could say that the happiness I'll experience this weekend will continue when I return.

I don't know

I don't know how I'm ever going to be truly "okay" again, when everything I see and do makes me think of my Daddy. Literally, everything. My brother the other day brought home Daddy's favorite donuts and it wasn't until he got home that he remembered he isn't here anymore, just habit I guess but wow... I feel like no matter how much time goes by, I'm really never going to be okay with any of this.

Its' not okay that the doctors didn't find the cancer until it was too late, when now we know his previous signs should have been further investigated.

It's not okay that the first surgeons said surgery was impossible.

It's not okay that Daddy had to endure all of that pain, what did he ever do to deserve that?

It's not okay that my mom is left alone to deal with never ending bills and heartache from my brother.

It's not okay that my father didn't get to see me on my wedding day.

None of this is okay.

None of it, so how can I ever be at peace with it all?


I just can't comprehend how the past almost 4 months have even happened, like, what were we even doing? I must have an autopilot switch that I know nothing about. I honestly just can't understand what I;m supposed to do, when everywhere I turn is a reminder. I don't try to think about him, I just do, it cannot be stopped.

I can only pray that my future will be easier, because I really don't think I could handle anymore heartbreak. I don't think my mother or brother could either.

I've been listening to this song a lot lately, it's from one of my favorite bands from growing up, the Ataris.
This song is just so perfect, The Hero Dies in This One.

As I leave here today, apartment 108
I'll always keep you in my heart.
Anderson is cold tonight,
The leaves are scattered on the ground.
I miss the seasons,
And the comfort of your smile.

Sometimes this all feels like a dream.
I'm waiting for someone to just wake me up,
From this life.

As I look out at these fairgrounds,
I remember how our family split apart.
I don't think I ever told you,
But I know you always did your best.
And the hard times,
They only made us stronger.

As I sit here all alone,
I wonder how I'm suppose to carry on when you're gone.
I'll never be the same without you, 
I love you more then you will ever know.
So maybe now you finally know.
Sometimes we're helpless and alone,
But you can let it keep you weighted down.
You must go on.

Do you ever feel like crying?
Do you ever feel like giving up?
I raise my hands up towards the sky,
I say this prayer for you tonight,
Because nothing is impossible.

As I sit here all alone,
I wonder how I'm suppose to carry on when you're gone.
I'll never be the same without you, 
I love you more then you will ever know.
So maybe now you finally know.
Sometimes we're helpless and alone,
But you can let it keep you weighted down.
You must go on.

(The hardest part isn't finding what we need to be, it's being content with who we are.)

Stay who you are.
You must go on.
Stay who you are. [x4]

It's so hard to stay true to myself, when half of who made me isn't on this earth any longer.

The last day of my honeymoon is the 27th of this month, it will mark 4 months since he has been gone, it just leaves me at a loss for words for the emotions I experience each day.

"So maybe now you finally know"

Writing before I forget

I am writing this before I forget. I just woke up from a dream and I don't want to miss any of the details.

I was at some hospital visiting someone, not really sure who, but I was with my mom. I got up to go to the bathroom and walked by an open curtain and saw this tuft of gray oily hair and a big bald spot.... It looked like Daddys hair... I walked around to get a look, it was him. Asleep. I shook him awake and he saw me and extended his arms to greet me. He had bandages on his back like after his spinal surgery or his battle with shingles, I couldn't tell. I was in disbelief, I just kept asking him how could this be how could this be. He said that Uncle Steve came to get him and bring him home, and so he did. Then I looked over and my uncle was in the bed right next to Daddy, but someone had moved their beds so they were touching, and uncle Steve was leaning on Daddys shoulder, passed out from all of that work.. getting up to Heaven and bringing him back... Then I just couldn't stop bugging and kissing my father, as I went up and down his arm with kisses, all of his scars and bruises that were present when he died were there, I can't believe I can remember where  all of his bruises were... Then I went into a panic to get ahold of my mom, but I didn't want to walk away from Daddy. I called her and told her to come quick I had a huge surprise, she said she had just gotten to her car to go and get us something to eat, she kept making excuses as to not come inside so I just yelled, Daddys Alive!!!!! Come quick!!!!

Then I woke up... :-/

Harry Potter

Anyone who knows me, knows that I have quite the obsession with Harry Potter.

Not only have I been attached to the books since elementary school, but the movies allow me to escape into magic whenever I desire... which is, a lot.

It's not just some nerdy, quirky, thing for me. Harry Potter is a true escape from this world. While my mom was sick, and then while my Daddy was sick, I literally would watch a different HP movie almost every night to fall asleep. It's comforting, it's relaxing, it allows me to dream and wonder while I otherwise could not.

I have always found it hard to sleep at night, but while Daddy fought so valiantly against kidney cancer, I found it even harder because I would lie there wondering what he was thinking about, what he was watching on Netflix, if his chemo had worked this round, if his side effects were too much to bare. Putting on a HP would envelope my psyche and all the thoughts with it and take me into the fantasy world... where there is no cancer, and even if there was, I'm sure there's a spell that Madam Pomphrey knows, or a potion she could whip up to make it go away... for good. The sense of escape and comfort does not exist in our reality, because evils like cancer do exist. I would rather face Lord Voldemort than face cancer ever again...

This all probably sounds ridiculous to you all, but it's true for me.


I cannot, literally cannot, wait to visit Harry Potter world at Universal Studios again.
What an adventure, guilt free, pain free, stress free, worry free.

#dumbledork
#potthead

Haven't written in a while

The holidays weren't as hard as I thought they were going to be. That might sound awful, but let me explain. I thought we were going to be sitting around, holding back tears and not ever getting into the Christmas spirit. I was wrong, my husband, brother, mother and I all went above and beyond for our presents to one another. I have never had so much fun watching my mother open presents before. I got her a tablet computer like she has been asking for for almost a year, and tickets to a Christmas Tea, and an album of Ken and I's wedding. I enjoyed Christmas so much this year. Yes, I found a couple of nights that I couldn't sleep, that I found myself just sitting up and thinking of Daddy... But I just think of it as his way of comforting me. We used to always sit up together at night , I'd sit right next to his hospital bed in the living room, and we would find random things on Netflix to watch... Eventually you'd find something so uninteresting that you'd fall asleep. We would eat italian ice and just laugh at how awful some of the tv shows were. So me sitting up at night now, I know he is around, and just wants to spend some time with me. I did miss seeing him in his Bah Hum Bug shirt this year tho...

I literally think about him every single day.

I find myself still talking about him in the present tense.

I hope neither of those things will ever change. <3

I have a feeling it's never going to really feel like Christmas again...

I HATE being sad every day, I hate that it's one of the happiest and most joyful times of the year and all I can do is be sad. I haven't had my heart feel light since before September, it just sits heavy in my chest. Sometimes I get so upset on the inside, but I've learned how to not show an ounce of it on the outside, that I completely stop breathing without noticing. Last year at Christmas time, Daddy was losing a lot of his strength when it came to walking and sitting up in his wheelchair for long periods of time, so he laid in bed a lot. But we still put up our tree and decorations and made the living room where his hospital bed was, feel like Christmas. On Christmas morning, he already had his favorite "BahHumBug" shirt on, and we just gave him his presents to unwrap in bed. He was smiling and cracking sarcastic jokes, and even sat up to hug me, though I know he did it through excruciating pain. I think he knew that it was going to be his last Christmas with us, because he usually would get Momma a funny desk calendar, a couple good books, and some jewelry for Christmas, but this year he wanted to get her something more. In November, he asked me to help him do some research on the Kindles, something Momma had been wanting for a very, very long time. My Daddy was a frugal as they get, he NEVER spent this much $ on any of us for presents, but he did last year for Momma. When she opened that Kindle Fire she was so happy, Daddy started to tear up, but I was the only one who saw it so I didn't bring it up, he never liked to be the center of attention. I think that was the hardest part for him about having cancer, he hated being the center of our attention, and he hated being a "burden" to us even more. I put that word in quotations because it was the word he chose to describe it, and every time he would apologize to me for being a burden, I would quickly correct him and tell him he was never a burden, that I loved him and me taking care of him, of all of us taking care of him, was just us showing that love. I don't think I could ever be as strong as he was, to fight through pain just to get up from bed with his walker and get to the bathroom (the entire 22 months, he only ever used a bedpan twice), to lay in bed day after day, with nothing to do but watch Netflix and talk to me when I could be there (I tried to be there by his side every day for at least a couple of hours)....to get himself in and out of the car to the doctors in Baltimore City once or twice a month, and at the end... to fight through full neck and then body spasms, to let us help him fall to the ground when he could not possibly walk anymore, to let firefighters carry him into bed... to go through nursing homes 4 separate times in the worst and most disgusting conditions, just to get stronger and come home to us... he could have given up and given in at any point in time and I wouldn't of been mad at him, but he never did, never. Even the last hours that he was conscious, I sat at his side for 4 hours while Momma and my brother were asleep in the hospital room, he couldn't form any words but he tried to so hard, SO hard, we think he had suffered a stroke or even two in his sleep so it was really hard for him to make his body do what it wanted to, but I had both of my hand wrapped around his, and every couple of minutes I would feel him squeeze. I let him know that I could feel it and that I was so incredibly proud of him for trying to talk to me and that I was sooooooooooo sorry that I couldn't understand what he was trying to tell me. I just kept talking to him and I told him that I would take care of Momma and Brian, he nodded, I told him I would make sure they would be okay, he nodded, I told him that he was the best Daddy a girl could ever ask for and that I loved him so much, he mouthed "love you" and kept nodding his head. This went on for four hours, he had been asleep for almost 2 days and randomly woke up at 11pm after Momma and Brian had fallen asleep. I was up and wasn't going to let him be awake alone. His favorite show, NCIS, was still on a marathon in the background and I just kept talking to him and letting him try to talk to me... I even pretended like I knew what he was saying sometimes just to make him feel better. Finally I was just so tired, I told him that it was okay if he couldn't fight any longer, if he wanted to die, it would be okay, we would all be okay. I told him that when he got to Heaven that he needed to say hi to Grandma and Big Al for me, that he needed to find Pa and Nana and his cousin Ronnie and tell them all about all the hard work he had done trying to beat this cancer. That he better track down Thurman Munson, Lou Gehrig, Mantle, and the Babe so that he could pick their brains about the game he loved and maybe have a game of catch.  I told him that dying didn't mean that the cancer had won, it meant that he had won, that he was going out on his terms and fuck kidney cancer for ever trying to make it any different. That I just loved him so much, that I always would... I told him I was sorry, but that I couldn't stay awake any longer, he nodded. I kissed his head all over, his cheeks, his hand in mine, and I laid my head down on his lap to fall asleep. I woke up a few hours later, and his hand was still gripping mine tight, but he was asleep. He never woke up again, and 2 days later he passed away. I am so grateful to have had that night with my Daddy, for us to have been able to say goodbye, I am just so incredibly grateful for that...

But now, every time I think of doing anything Christmas related, I think of that conversation and I can picture his face in the front of my mind trying to talk to me... mouthing "love you" and my body immediately tries to breakdown and cry.... I won't let that happen, I'm my father's daughter and we know how to keep ourselves together, we know how to go on fighting, we know how to stand strong. It's just that this is my first Christmas with my husband... it should be happy, but right now if I were truly and completely happy, it would mean that I wasn't thinking of Daddy rationally... I should be thinking of him this time of year even more than any other, I should be mourning him and I should have this heavy heart... and if that means that it will never truly feel like Christmas again, than that/s okay. It really is.

My Wedding Weekend

This past week, I married the man of my dreams.

Wednesday was our rehearsal and rehearsal dinner... it was also my parents' 26th wedding anniversary and that day made it 2 months since Daddy left us. It was very hard, but my family made it as fun as we possibly could. Thursday was Thanksgiving, I got to spend it with half Daddy's family and half Momma's family and it was fantastic! My family and friends know exactly how to keep our spirits up and never stop laughing, I know that Daddy was looking down on us and deep belly laughing right along with us.

But Friday, I'm surprised I cracked a smile at all. My wedding day, it's supposed to be the happiest day of my life, but all I could do was tear up and choke on my own words. I woke up and had breakfast with my family, then went with my cousinsister and Momma to get our hair and makeup done. When I got back to the Inn, I put my gameface on and said a prayer to Daddy, my guardian Angel. I prayed for him to be with me all day, and for him to hold my hand, to give me the strength to go on, to enjoy my day.

As I went to get dressed, my almost hubby had left me a present. He got my a charm bracelet with two charms on it... one with two wedding rings on it, and one that read "Daddy's Little Girl." I almost started balling, but I had to keep my makeup on!!! I teared up a bit, and showed all my bridesmaids and my Momma the bracelet. I got into my dress, with lots of help(!!!), and we went down to get into the limo.As the bagpiper kept playing, all my girls went into the church, my Momma fixed my veil and kissed my face all over, and I hid in the bathroom (yeah... about that...too many things to say about that for the internet to handle), Then, my Uncle and I got ready to walk down the aisle... "you ready to do this kiddo?" ... He took my right arm, and I could feel a squeeze on my left hand, but no one was there... it was Daddy. I knew that the organist was playing, but all I could hear was my Daddy singing, "There she is... Miss Americaaaaaa." I just bit my lip to stop myself from crying, and my uncle had to slow me down as we walked down the aisle, I knew that if I made eye contact with anyone that I was going to start sobbing. My uncle lifted my veil, kissed me, and handed me to my almost husband. Throughout the whole ceremony, I kept looking at my bridesmaids and my Momma, trying to keep myself from just completely breaking down. But, my brother did it... he got up in front of the whole congregation to recite the Prayer of the Faithful... and as he got to the end... "For all of our family members and friends that are celebrating with us in Heaven today,.... especially Dan Mulcahy, grandfather of the bride, and Gregory Lehnert, father of the bride, who have passed away this year, let us pray." He broke down, his face turned bright red and he barely got the words out through the tears... but he did it, for me.... he looked over at me and I was done... tears running down my cheeks... but good tears... happy tears. My Daddy was shining over me the entire time...Then, our Deacon finished the ceremony, we did it... reality still hasn't hit me yet... I'm the luckiest woman in the world, to have my family that lift me up everyday, my friends that support me in all that I do, and my husband, my rock and prince charming<3

And oh so lucky to be my Daddy's daughter, to have had him to raise me and make me laugh the hardest I've ever laughed, to teach me what life and true love is all about, to instill the importance of being honest no matter what, and of course, to wear pinstripes on my heart.

I miss you more and more each day, until we meet again Daddy....

The Funeral

The funeral was the next day, Monday. I somehow got some sleep, woke up, put my black dress on... made sure to load up on waterproof mascara, and went down to meet my friends Irene and Jess that had brought my family and I MccyD's breakfast... yes, my friends are that awesome. I brought my mother's coffee up to her room, to find that she was already dressed and ready to go, but she was sitting on the side of her bed. Surprisingly she wasn't in tears, she didn't say anything, I just sat down next to her and told her that today is already 8 hours over, the next several hours are going to be really hard, but then we will get to sit and enjoy a meal with our family... we will all be together. She just agreed, and I got her to come down to the kitchen. We all got something to eat, and piled into cars to head over to the funeral home. We had to say goodbye, I had to say goodbye to my Daddy... this was the last time that I was ever going to be able to look at him, ever... I just felt numb in this moment. We let everyone else say their goodbyes first, and then my brother, my fiance, my mother and I all went up to Daddy's casket. I watched a tear fall from my brother's face and onto the silk on the casket lining, then I looked at tears welling up in my mother's eyes, and finally I looked down at my father;s face. The face I had seen every day for over 23 years... the face of the first man I ever loved, the man I looked up to more than anyone, my hero, my strength, my inspiration, and my heart just broke, not like when someone breaks up with you, or when your heart breaks for a tragedy you hear on the news, this was such a deep feeling all the way through my chest. My heart fell, and I knew it was never going to heal... knowing that this pain was going to be with me every day of my life from here on out, it was a new feeling for me... I knew I'd somehow manage, but I also knew that no matter how much time goes by, this feeling isn't ever going to lessen or go away, it will just be managed... I helped my mother up off the prayer stool in front of the casket, and I bent in and kissed my Daddy on his forehead.... just like I had every day since he had gotten sick.... and my heart fell a little deeper...

Walking out of that room, is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do, I had never turned my back on my Daddy before, it felt so wrong... but it was time to line up the cars and head over to the church.

As we approached the church, I could hear the bagpipes, I could see all the cars in the parking lot... I honestly wasn't expecting such a turn out, it was nice to see. Then, the pallbearers got Daddy, and brought him into the back of the church, where our family friend and Deacon was waiting for us, he had brought the whole congregation to the back of the church, to walk Daddy in. My brother and I got on either side of my mother and took her arms, and we followed Daddy in, with all of our family and friends behind us... Daddy would have really liked that, one of my biggest fears about him fighting cancer was that he would find times where he would feel alone, but this... this time where he was at peace, from this moment forward he would never be alone.

We took our seats, and I sang at the top of my lungs, all I could hear was me, over top the piano and choir, I didn't want to hear anything else... I wanted to keep my mind present, as I counted down to my eulogy. No one knew I was giving the eulogy except for my very immediate family, but when the time came my fiance walked me over to the altar.

I walked up the stairs and could feel my heart start to pound, and my elbows start to shake, but I took a deep breath...

"My Daddy was the definition of a fighter. 
He looked cancer straight in the eye and showed it no mercy. 
He won his battle by choosing peace, he had suffered long enough.
And even while in pain, he continued to be an incredible friend, a caring uncle, a supportive brother, a loving husband, and the best father,
As he should have been only concerned with his own health, he would have rather be taking care of all of us,
It's just the way he was,
He was always a stand-up, and by the book, simple man, with the biggest heart.
With his sarcastic humor that left some memories forever branded in our hearts.
Some of my favorite memories are how I'd come down the stairs at noon, in my jammies, with bedhead, and he'd start singing the Miss America Pageant theme song,
or when we were young enough to have to hold his hand to cross the street, he'd start skipping with us and sing Follow the Yellow Brick Road, Follow the Yellow Brick Road,
And then in his final days, he wasn't really aware of what was going on around him,
but when I told him that A-Rod broke Lou Gerhig's grandslam record, he looked right at me and says, "23 right?", yup Dady, now it's 24.
Baseball stats, especially Yankees stats, never left that man's head.
He was just amazing, so incredibly strong, so positive.
He is a part of me, my family, and I will think of him every morning as I wake,
I will miss him every day.
But I will go on knowing that he left his pain and disease behind him,
and I look forward to my time, when he will welcome me into Heaven with a beer and a smile.
I love you, Daddy.
Always and Forever.
No matter what."

 

The weekend

So we all got home, cried some more, and then somehow got some sleep. When we woke up, we had to make hard phone calls and start cleaning the house... Were going to have a lot of people here this weekend. Then, I took my mother to the funeral home, where luckily we had premade arrangements months ago and just had to make some final decisions. It was so creepy being taken by elevator to the bottom floor of a funeral home... Just to sit in a room full of casket brochures and sample urns, but we had to. We made it through the meeting, and then started our way home. My brother didn't have a suit to wear for the wakes, so my fiance took him to get one, and then I had to get the guest rooms ready for family, and I just tried to keep busy. The first wake was Saturday evening.

This was our first time seeing Daddy after... I walked in to the room and couldn't help but break down in tears. The funeral home did such an amazing job, it looked like my Daddy from 2 years ago, with brown hair and a pink to his cheeks, no beard, no saddness. He looked like the Daddy I knew before cancer. I was so happy, yet so upset, I really didn't know how to react, so I started to talk to others. Lots of my friends and my brothers friends came, my family had mostly gotten to town during the day and they came. It was a rough few hours, we got pizza and beer, daddy's last meal in the hospital, to have as a late dinner at home that night...

Sunday was even harder, 2 wakes, with just a brief break in between. But it was good, some of Daddys fraternity brothers came, and his office staff, and it was just very nice... Until Monday.

Thursday

Thursday was just like Wednesday, Daddys breathing was erratic and faint. His extremeties were really starting to swell. I just couldnt believe I was watching my Daddy die right before my eyes. He could no longer attempt at squeezing my hand, his eyes didn't even flutter, he just laid there peacefully, barely alive. I couldn't take my eyes off of him all day, until it was time for bed. My mother had been sleeping in the windowsill couch, and my brother on a cot that hospital security found us, we had basically moved in for two weeks. I was in a reclining type chair next to Dads bed, and just like when he was at home, I had my loptop open watching NetFlix so he could watch them with me. His breathing was becoming more and more shallow, I just kept waiting for his chest to not come up again. I was so upset, but my body didn't know how to show it, it knew I had to remain strong, if Daddy was going to go tonight, my mother and brother are both asleep, it'd just be me. But then I thought about two December's ago, in this very hospital, how I had just gotten to Daddys room from being at school for class, when the doctor came in and told us he had severe staged cancer. It was just me and him then, and it was just me and him now. We always shared a special bond, I was his little girl... We could exchange looks at eachother and get our point across, he didn't have to communicate how he felt to me then and he didn't have to now. I just curled up in my chair with a bunch of hospital blankets, I took his hand, and I waited. 

The nurse came in to give him his next round of medications a little after midnight, just as I was telling Daddy about Mariano Riveras last game and how Jeter and Andy took him out in style, I kissed his hand that I was holding and I just stared at him. Thinking about all the things he had taught me in my life, all the values and loves that he had instilled in me, and how scared I was about life without my Daddy... When I looked up, he exhaled, and his chest didn't come back up. I looked at the clock, 1:06am ... It was now Friday and I didn't even realize it. I stared back at him, his chest still hadn't risen, I almost threw up right then and there... He was gone, completely and totally gone. I looked at my little brother snoring on a cot next to me, and my mom asleep across the room. It was just me and Daddy, just like this journey started, I couldn't let go of his hand, I had to use my other hand to separate us. Then I made sure his eyes were completely closed, and I went to wake up my mom.

"Momma, ... Momma, he's gone."

She looked up and sat up and sighed, and we both woke up my brother... We all cried for a bit, and then started to clean up the mess we had made of the room over the past two weeks. And once we felt okay enough, we went and told the nurses what had happened...

Then we had to leave, we had to say goodbye... I didn't want to go, but the funeral home was coming soon and we needed to get some sleep to be able to handle the weekend ahead of us. I just kept kissing his forehead like I always did, his skin already starting to turn yellow, I didn't care, he's still my Daddy...mine. 

Wednesday Part 2

Like I was saying, cancer sucks... Yup, it does. Especially when it lingers in your life for long periods of time, like "I'm killing your loved one, but I'm going to take my sweet ass time". F cancer, seriously, F it.

We spent all day Wednesday watching Daddy sleep, he fluttered his eyes a few times,  but not consiously, he could not possibly know what was really going on. I tested it, I put some raspberry jelly from a donut, his favorite, on my finger and I put it on his lip, no reaction. If he had had any second of awareness, he wouldve been all over that. .... I started to accept that my Daddy as I knew him, was gone. There was none of my father left in this human body, just the remnants of his soul, his never give up, fight until the end, soul. He was such an incredible person, he fought harder than any living being should ever be expected to. He literally took "you have 3 months" and turned it into 22, TWENTY TWO! who does that?!?!?! Without celebrity money and millionaire afforded surgeries, the answer is no one.

But he did.
My Daddy, he did it.
He survived, he provailed, he told cancer to go F itself, he had more life to live.

And live is exactly what he did.

Wednesday

After spending several hours Tuesday night with Daddy being awake and trying to talk to me, Wednesday was really hard. He was in a deep sleep, morphine helped of course, but even if you shouted his name in his face, he wasn't going to wake up. We kept his pain medicine dosing pretty consistent, but not too close together either. There's was no way to know for sure, but I kept telling myself he was comfortable and not in any pain. His body was shutting down, little by little. I thought I was okay with this, I had told him I was okay with this... I was wrong. I could barely bring myself to sit next to him let alone hold his hand like I always did, because I knew he wasn't waking up this time... I knew it, I knew it and I couldnt handle it. I just wanted one more smile... But I settled for talking in his ear, the doctors and hospice staff told us that the last two senses to leave us are touch and hearing, so I stroked his hair and talked to him.

Kind of like how you too to a baby, knowing they can't respond to you or really understand what you're saying, but you want them to hear your voice and feel your love. I kept having to remind myself to breathe, I was more concerned with his breathing..... I'd watch his chest rise and fall, no two breaths the same length or depth, and as his chest fell each time, my heart would stop waiting for it to rise again. With each millisecond in between--- all the thoughts that had built up over the past 22 months flashed through my brain, but then... His chest would rise, my heart would start pounding again, and I'd feel relief, but not a typical relief, it was relief mixed with guilt mixed with anxiety and pain... I'll admit it, I wanted him to die. I wanted him to leave his cancer and turmoil behind him, I wanted his wakes and funeral to be sooner rather than later (if they had gone one day later they would have kept me from starting my Americorps training) I wanted my family to be able to finally start grieving... Stage four cancer is a death sentence, but daddy kept beating all odds over and over to the point that some family members thought he was indestructible, ..... In my mind, he still is.