Rest in Peace, Dad

My father died at 3:45pm on Friday, March 6.

I'm so grateful that I said everything I needed to say to him when he was alive and conscious during the years before his death. I repeated all the stuff I thought was really important when he was no longer conscious and dying at the Sarasota Hospice House.

It was a horrible death. He suffered for each breath during his final week. He was less than 100 lbs. and not able to do anything, even open his eyes at the end. It was painful and even the high doses of morphine couldn't totally relieve his pain until he finally took his last breath and slipped out of his body.

But he is no longer in the ravaged body of a man with emphysema. I want to imagine him breathing big deep breaths and smiling in heaven with Goober, Luke I, and all his other dog friends that died over the years. He is sailing and hunting and fishing and being outside. He is telling stories and smiling at those he loves. He has a head full of curly black hair again and he is showing off with push-ups with a clap in the middle like he used to do in the driveway when I was a little kid. He has started a Craigslist in heaven so he can keep making deals and getting bargains. He is at peace.

I think I am, too...with his passing, that is. I miss him but I know that he is in a better place. That does not mean, however, that I am not a little nuts right now.

I am bruised and wounded by my family's craziness while he was dying. I'm horrified by my ability to pull the dead dad card whenever I want to say or do something inappropriate. I am sad that, for all intents and purposes, I am now an orphan. I am guilty and a little mad that everyone won't agree because my mother is still breathing. I am determined to work through all these feelings and try not to get sick. I want to be kind and gentle with myself and not abuse my body, mind, and spirit with old patterns and escapes. I want to be with my feelings without being filled with self pity.

I'll let you know how it goes.