725

725 days ago

everything stopped – it was like I was an actress in the most dramatic movie ever seen

I wasn’t acting

I walked into Scarborough General hospital, concerned, but confidant that HE would be fine. I’ve seen Grey’s Anatomy and dozens of other hospital shows and people survived a Code Blue all the time…didn’t they?  It’s amazing what you remember 725 days ago, when I couldn’t tell you what I had for lunch yesterday.

I had just opened the hospital doors when my phone rang – it was in my newest purse, Michael Kors.  My mom had bought it for me in Vegas the April that had just passed.  The bag was large and the phone had been thrown in the bottom with my keys. I grasped it and saw my sister-in-laws number.  I knew before answering…it was over, HE was gone. As she spoke the words, my purse dropping and spraying items all over the spick and span hospital floor, I fell and screamed a sickening sound. My heart felt like it was going to stop beating, I thought I would be the one having the heart attack.  No one should ever feel that much pain and yet here I was on July 21st, 2013 at 5:30 am in an empty hallway of a Hospital wishing for death to take me because I could not, WOULD NOT live without HIM.  I don’t know how long I stayed on that floor, crumpled into the fetus position crying.  Somehow I made myself walk to the elevator because I knew more than anything I needed to be in HIS presence.  I got to HIS floor, where I had left HIM not even 24 hours ago with the promise of bringing HIM home that day and an orderly (or maybe a male nurse) caught me as I came crashing out of the steel elevator and quickly put me into a chair with a high back and rubbed my shoulders as I sobbed.  No one else was there, my brother and sister-in-law took another 20 minutes and my best friend who I had called wasn’t there for another 10. A nurse finally let me in, and that was it – with my own eyes, my father was gone.

That was 725 days ago.  It seems a lifetime ago, yet at the same time yesterday.  Everything that has happened since that day and everything that continues to happen regardless of my feelings or thoughts is sometimes astounding.  Life just keeps keeping on.  There is no stopping it.  He isn’t coming back.  My grandmother who passed away 2 years prior to this isn’t coming back.

Loss.  It doesn’t heal.  Not one day out of the 725 have I NOT thought about my dad.  Even if it’s just a brief moment or sometimes a full few hours he is there…always.  I haven’t shed as many tears this year as I did last year.  I haven’t had as many anxiety attacks as I did last year.  Maybe next year it will be even less.  But he will always be in my mind.  When I am sleeping, when I am driving, when I am making a hard decision, when I am planning a fun activity…he’s here, but not.  I want him HERE.

Some of my family will be gathering at the cemetery on the 21st and then concluding with a dinner to memorialize the occasion – just like we did last year, another year where he isn’t joining us.

damn

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