On January 22, 2022, my Dad died. My theme, “Letters to my Dad” is based on random thoughts about him and the aftermath of not having him around anymore.
Thank you for deciding that passing away at home was the only option.
Fifty-four years in the same house is a long time and we didn’t expect you to want it any other way.
You were able to be at peace in the house you made a home, where we have so many memories. We were able to continue coming and going as we pleased with little need to juggle too many covid concerns and pandemic protocols.
Remember when I taped this sign I found on the internet to the front door to remind everyone to be extremely careful around you?
You had such a good laugh at this graphic that I posted a second one near your Lazyboy chair. 🙂
Early on in your diagnosis, you professed that you weren’t afraid of dying.
In your words, “Dying is like going to sleep and simply not waking up”. You said it time and time again to others when the topic came up.
I know that you meant it but deep down, I also know that you were putting on a brave face for the “others”.
In the quiet times, sometimes late at night, it was with us, your kids, that you broke down. And when you broke down, we put on our brave faces to comfort you.
Remember how I used to suffer from insomnia as a kid and had such a hard time falling asleep?
How it was so bad that oftentimes biggest bro would do his high school homework at the desk in my room just to keep my company until I did eventually fall asleep?
What I never told you was that I dreaded going to sleep because of a recurring nightmare I would have – where I would wake up to find out that you, Mom and the boys were gone and I was left alone by myself in the world – a world I already knew, even at that young age, didn’t favor little girls who looked like me.
To fall asleep, I would often pray that I could die first so that I would never have to experience that kind of aloneness and loneliness.
The thought of my own death has never frightened me. Even when the doctors thought that I had a cancerous tumour as a teenager, I wasn’t afraid. Not one bit. I remember telling you that and you being surprised.
My fear of death has only ever been related to my loved ones like you. And with you actually gone now, my insomnia has reappeared.
Don’t feel bad. It’s not your fault. I’m taking steps to deal with it.
Don’t you fret Dad. I’ll eventually be ok.
Loving you always,