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A Journey's End - RIP Dad
2 years ago
Well, the inevitable finally happened. At 62 years of age, my father has sadly passed away.
For the time he was in ICU, my father had been receiving treatment to help in digestion and breathing, of which both were becoming more and more harder to do. It had reached a point where he needed one tube to deliver oxygen, another for an IV nutrient drip, and lastly, a tube inserted into his stomach since he had severe difficulty swallowing. I had taken the chance offered to see him about a week ago before leaving on a trip, and at the time, he seemed like his mind was phasing in and out. There'd be brief moments where he looked at me, saying "Hey kiddo", and then would slip back into a blank stare, as if he had no idea what was going on around him.
After I got back from my trip the other night, the doctors speculate at that time, my father had suffered a stroke in his sleep that destroyed nearly all vital functions of his body. My grandmother was then faced with the difficult decision to move my father into comfort care. There was hope that he could have a small chance of pulling through after my grandmother had visited him in the hospital. However, just 3 hours after she got home, the call came in, stating that he slipped peacefully away in his sleep.
After receiving the call, my grandmother lost all emotional control, and had a breakdown. Both myself, and her niece did our best to keep her calm. As of now, she is currently resting. Tomorrow will mark the daunting journey of funeral preparations. Since my father served in the coast guard for over 4 years, I'll have to call VA's office, and see what steps will be necessary.
It is said that when you live by the sword, you die by the sword. In my dad's case, the sword was the bottle. In the beginning, it offered comfort, and salvation. However, over time, it began taking his health, both physically, and mentally, as he consumed more and more, with little to no regard of self control. I can't fault him for that, for he was a lost soul in the final years of his life. Plagued by the demons that tormented him, he sought refuge in the only thing that brought him happiness. And in the end, it was his downfall.
Dad, if you're able to read this, just know that I will always love you, and will never forget you. You will be missed greatly.
RIP Dad.
1961 - 2023
For the time he was in ICU, my father had been receiving treatment to help in digestion and breathing, of which both were becoming more and more harder to do. It had reached a point where he needed one tube to deliver oxygen, another for an IV nutrient drip, and lastly, a tube inserted into his stomach since he had severe difficulty swallowing. I had taken the chance offered to see him about a week ago before leaving on a trip, and at the time, he seemed like his mind was phasing in and out. There'd be brief moments where he looked at me, saying "Hey kiddo", and then would slip back into a blank stare, as if he had no idea what was going on around him.
After I got back from my trip the other night, the doctors speculate at that time, my father had suffered a stroke in his sleep that destroyed nearly all vital functions of his body. My grandmother was then faced with the difficult decision to move my father into comfort care. There was hope that he could have a small chance of pulling through after my grandmother had visited him in the hospital. However, just 3 hours after she got home, the call came in, stating that he slipped peacefully away in his sleep.
After receiving the call, my grandmother lost all emotional control, and had a breakdown. Both myself, and her niece did our best to keep her calm. As of now, she is currently resting. Tomorrow will mark the daunting journey of funeral preparations. Since my father served in the coast guard for over 4 years, I'll have to call VA's office, and see what steps will be necessary.
It is said that when you live by the sword, you die by the sword. In my dad's case, the sword was the bottle. In the beginning, it offered comfort, and salvation. However, over time, it began taking his health, both physically, and mentally, as he consumed more and more, with little to no regard of self control. I can't fault him for that, for he was a lost soul in the final years of his life. Plagued by the demons that tormented him, he sought refuge in the only thing that brought him happiness. And in the end, it was his downfall.
Dad, if you're able to read this, just know that I will always love you, and will never forget you. You will be missed greatly.
RIP Dad.
1961 - 2023
Dale