Dad..

3 years ago today, I leaned over my dad's bed at the hospice and told him what I knew. 

I knew that I wouldn't see him alive again. 

I knew that my kids wouldn't see him again (and that I was very grateful that my girls saw him one last time a few days prior)

I knew that it was time for him to move on.  To absolve himself of the cancer.  (or so I really hope)

I knew that he was loved and that we would miss him. 

I knew that my dad wouldn't be forgotten. 

I also knew that he made it to his 62nd birthday.

I told him that I was so proud of him.

I asked him to check in from time to time.

I told him that it was time to go.

I told him that I loved him so so so very much.

Today dad would have been 65. 

Tomorrow, he has been dead for 3 years.

I miss him.  I love him..

I'm finding this so hard...

So dad has been gone for 10 days. That's it. 10 days. I know it's not going to be any easy process. Death and dying and grief are a tangled mess..

Grief is defined as "The normal process of reacting both internally and externally to the perception of loss."

And I know it's going to be a long long road for me, and for the whole family. I can't get my head around that although my dad was ferociously sick, that dad's body failed him in so many ways, that he NEVER had a chance, that he is gone. This was always the outcome. He was going to die from the minute he received that dreadful diagnosis, way back Nov 07. And it sucks.

He's never going to be able to take my kids to the science center, a place where he loved. He's never going to take them to the zoo. I'm never going to see my dad at a finish line at a race. Yes I know he'll always be 'with me' but it is not the same. It sucks so much. I hurt so much. I'm trying to see the stages of grief as steps and they are.

I'm thinking I'm in stage 1. Denial. My friend says that stage never truly goes away. I'm in denial. I keep thinking, oh I should tell dad that. He'd be excited. Then I remember. But it could also be said I'm in stage2. Anger. Because man am I ever angry. I am so angry at a family who treated the C word as a dirty little secret. Every freaking person on my dad's maternal side died of cancer. And it was just recently (in the last 2 months) divulged. Dad had asked 10 years ago when he had the "not real kind" according to some, and no one said a flippin thing. Maybe it wouldn't have made a difference but I fully believe it would have. And I know its not just a new learning, because the Mat Grand said that she's known since they died. So ignorance isn't an excuse. I really feel that they have failed their son.

But what can I do, maybe that's part of 3. Bargaining. But I have nothing to bargain. I will make sure that I do better with my kids and tell them the good and the bad of family history. Because diseases shouldn't be dirty little secrets.

The other two stages of grief are coming, I can feel them. But with the stages comes new life. New normals. New stages of new normal life.

I miss you dad.