Going crazy

Monday, June 18, 2007

I really miss him.

I was born on Father's day, and was always really close to my Dad, and now I just feel lost and alone. He's been in the hospital a year today and it kills me. Yesterday during all of those "what a great Dad" movies all I could think was "I wanna go home"...I was sitting in my kitchen.

Dad's roses that he planted for my mother are in bloom and their scent fills the air...it so fucking depressing. Though a friend did remind me to take a picture so that my dad can see that his roses are still thriving. I just want to hear his voice, he could say anything, I just want to hear it and know the comfort that it brings.

My dad was never really physically demonstrative in his affections but I knew that he cared, now I seem to be more sensitive to any negative communication from him. If he sends me away or wants me to leave I am hurt, though i know that somehow it is for me that he is doing this.

It seems that I have spent the last 12 years merely wanting my dad back and during those 12 years I have been losing larger portions of him. He had a stroke 12 years ago but it wasn't this big, he managed to recover to about 90% and I just wanted that 10% that I knew was missing. We got over it and were happy with the part that we had and the fact that he was still here and still dependable for remarks and comments. We saw that he was deteriorating in the last 5 years, but we just shrugged and said "hey Dad is getting old". We merely took it in stride, he isn't going to live forever.

This Stroke was in his brain stem, it affected everything, and we work hard and poke and prod to make him throw a ball, or connect dots on a page, or move his lips enough to where I can read them. Its' funny that he bites me on purpose when i clean his mouth or brush his teeth, he finds it funny when I stand too close, to snatch my bottle and try to drink...until he takes too much and starts to choke, but that doesn't stop him from trying.

He always had a will of iron and now it seems to be made of some lesser metal. He understands everything around him, and is still capable of reading, and it hurts to see him. My dad in a hospital bed, unable to move his left side, unable to communicate clearly, to see his daily frustrations cross over his face, the disgust in his eyes when he can't let go of the bar that he was so happy he could reach only seconds ago.

It hurts, it makes everything in my chest go tight, and I'm upset at the fact that I can only stand to be in his room for 40-50 minutes. I go weeks without any good sleep until my body gives out and shuts down. Places of calm and safety are few and far away.

Being an emotional sponge and walking down that hallway to him doesn't help either, most of the people living in that section know me, I try to help when I'm there (releasing brakes on wheelchairs or pushing one to the rec. room) and that just means that it takes me even longer to walk out and escape the silent screams of the sick and dying.

Don't know what I want, just needed to vent I guess, there really isn't anything to be done but what I do. Go and see him, tell him that I love him and miss him, push him into exercising and increasing what he can do.

Though the mean spirited part of me appreciates that I spend this time with my Dad and my older sister only managed to spare 10-15 mins. for him on Father's day. Guess I'm not that bad of a daughter after all.

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