Friday, February 14, 2014
Today I find myself thinking a lot about my dad. I have been having many dreams about him and mom, and I guess it some way they know that I need them right now. I am going though a lot and do not get me wrong I would love to have my parents by my side. I know though that they are watching from up above for me.
This morning though I woke up really missing my dad. Tomorrow he will be gone for eight years so that means eight years ago I was sitting in the ICU talking to doctors praying that he would wake up, but knowing that he wouldn’t. I remember conversation with my father were he told me he never wanted to be put on a vent. Well before I had gotten to the hospital, they put my father on a vent. So I remember sitting there telling myself that if he does not wake up by morning I am going to have to take him off. The choice was all on me my mother was three hours away in a coma like state herself due to liver/kidney failure. I remember trying everything to get her home to spend there last valentine day together, but they told me they could only give me three hours and three hours would have taken them to make the drive. Therefore, that was out of the question.
Therefore, I have a hard time with valentine day. To me it day that I always think about my father I remember as kids my dad would buy us a flower, candy, and a card that we would find laying for us on the counter when we woke up. I miss those simple moments with him. As I got older we had our difference, but now I can see it was not my father fault. He was a big man when I say big I mean when he passed he was close to 500lbs. no one every taught him what I am trying to learn. In order to deal with his emotions he ate. Many memories that I have with my dad is eating food, and a lot of it. He taught me to emotional eat away my pain and I got good at doing it. I did not know better so that is what I did.
I admit though I wish my dad had a wake up call and learned to be healthy. However, the death of his son was just too much to handle, and then his wife getting very sick. I believe he just could not handle it. There a place in my mind that deep down I believe my father killed himself so he did not have to deal with my mom dying. I say that because my father was sick for almost two months before he finally went to the hospital. I kept telling him to go, but he told me know that he did not want to because mom was in the hospital. If he had gone earlier my father would have gotten though it, but I do not think he would have gotten though the death of my mom.
At first I was mad when I thought about this and sometimes I admit I still get a little upset, but though my own journey I’ve learned that his issues was a disease that he never got under control and it one. Brother died to heroin his addiction and my father died because of his addiction to food. Even though they are different, they are the same.