I Lost My Father

My father left this world on 7th January 2017. He was 63 at that time. He was suffering from Parkinson's for a year and half. I quit my job last year and went back to stay with my folks. I wanted to help my mother to take care of my father and with the household chores. My mother was a retired nurse. At the middle of last year my father got pneumonia for which he was kept in the ventilator. He stayed 2 weeks in the ICU and then 4 months in the male ward. We fed him through the food tube. He suffered from bed sores as well and we had to change his dressings everyday. Everyday he was given insulin for his diabetes which made his skin a little rough and rigid. Sometimes, due to my frustration of staying at home, made me angry and I used to pray God to take him away. I used to miss every outings with my friends, I miss meeting with my bf, I miss going for a drive with my cousins. I was angry and irritated with my father. He wasn't getting better and I had to remain at home to look after the house. My brothers were working out of town and they used to visit us on weekends. The more days he was in hospital the meaner I became, until one day the doctor asked us to take him back home. It was Saturday, my brother were visiting us and had went out for groceries. Suddenly my father started coughing and my mother gave him his medicine through the nebulizer. I was sitting beside him and my mother went to get the phone to call for an ambulance. I started panicking coz I haven't seen him coughing so forcefully. He was staring at our family picture which was hanging by the wall beside him. And all of a sudden he stopped. I checked his heart rate and it was beating but he wasn't breathing. I shouted for my mother and couldn't control my tears. My mother checked his pulse and didn't panic. She told me to remain calm and asked me to pack his medicines and stuffs for the hospital. The ambulance arrived and so did my brothers. We took him to the emergency room and the doctors declared him brought dead. I was numb and couldn't feel my feet underneath. I looked at my mother and she was standing silently. I looked at my brother's , they were speechless. My mother explained to the doctors about the previous scenario while trying to control her tears. There was my father, laying peacefully in the stretcher, away from all his sufferings. The next day around 200 people came for my father's funeral. Some even visited us later. It's been around 4 months and I still remember the moment with him taking his last breath. I felt guilty and horrible for myself. rather then hoping for his good recovery I was praying for his dead so that we could live in peace. I am a terrible daughter and God did listened to my prayer. Where ever he is now I just want to ask forgiveness from him, I don't deserve him. Now I used to take extra care for my mother. She is a strong person. I didnt join any company yet cause I wanted to make sure my mother is alright. I don't mind missing outings with my friends or with my bf as long as my family is safe and sound. I am thankful for the last 26 years which I got to spend time with my loving father.