Goodbye Dad. R.I.P.
Dear Dad,
The 17th December 2020, will go down as a devastating date in my life, the day that you passed away.
How terribly sad that we lost you one week before Christmas and only 2 days short of what would have been your 91st birthday.
The doctors had told us about a week earlier that you only had a week, perhaps two at best, to live. Although we hoped you would make it to your birthday, and perhaps even to Christmas Day, it was unbearable seeing you not eat or even drink a single thing for the final 8 or 9 days. For that reason, it was a blessed relief that you were at last, at peace when you passed. As best we know, the medicine was controlling your pain, at least I pray it did. You couldn’t talk in the final days, so we can only believe the doctors were correct in saying you were not in pain.
Christmas will never be the same again for the rest of us in our small family, me, mum and my brother. The memory of the festive season will now always be destined to be a sad reminder of your passing. I will be forever haunted by that moment when my brother banged on my door at 6am and said ‘dad’s stopped breathing’. As I went into your bedroom and saw your still body, I hoped you were still alive, even if just for a few more minutes - but you were already gone. Thankfully, I got to hold your hand the night before and wish you good night. I wish I had done and said more. I’m sorry I didn’t and I feel guilty that I didn’t take time off work a week earlier to completely devote my time to you. So sorry Dad.
It’s so sad how much illness you suffered in your final years. I hope you are with God in heaven. Rest in peace. Love your son.
The 17th December 2020, will go down as a devastating date in my life, the day that you passed away.
How terribly sad that we lost you one week before Christmas and only 2 days short of what would have been your 91st birthday.
The doctors had told us about a week earlier that you only had a week, perhaps two at best, to live. Although we hoped you would make it to your birthday, and perhaps even to Christmas Day, it was unbearable seeing you not eat or even drink a single thing for the final 8 or 9 days. For that reason, it was a blessed relief that you were at last, at peace when you passed. As best we know, the medicine was controlling your pain, at least I pray it did. You couldn’t talk in the final days, so we can only believe the doctors were correct in saying you were not in pain.
Christmas will never be the same again for the rest of us in our small family, me, mum and my brother. The memory of the festive season will now always be destined to be a sad reminder of your passing. I will be forever haunted by that moment when my brother banged on my door at 6am and said ‘dad’s stopped breathing’. As I went into your bedroom and saw your still body, I hoped you were still alive, even if just for a few more minutes - but you were already gone. Thankfully, I got to hold your hand the night before and wish you good night. I wish I had done and said more. I’m sorry I didn’t and I feel guilty that I didn’t take time off work a week earlier to completely devote my time to you. So sorry Dad.
It’s so sad how much illness you suffered in your final years. I hope you are with God in heaven. Rest in peace. Love your son.
