My Dad is Dying

I just saw my dad. As soon as he spoke, I knew. He called me Pido. His pet name for me. I don't think he will experience 2021. These tears are caused by a life review. I have always wanted a father. I have always wanted a father who was present, engaged, communicative. I have always wanted a family. I don't even know what parents are. Are they the two sick, broken people that made me? The two people who tortured each other, abused each other, hated each other, but believed in until death do us part? How do you mourn over someone you don't even know? I suppose it's the same way I mourned over the man that is my daughter's father. 

My God this year has been hard for so many reasons. 

I tend to look at life as positive as possible. It's what makes me, me. 

This life review has made me think about everything. It has made me want to reach out to my daughter's father, to tell him that my daughter won't even know her grandparents, that perhaps she could know hers on his side if only he were to reconcile with them. I remember it was as if we both experienced the same kind of life. It's why I have had as much empathy and compassion for him and his circumstances. I don't even know where my mind is right now. All I know is what I want for my daughter. I want her to know what healthy relationships are, healthy parents, a healthy family. But what is that? 

My mother thinks that my father is punishing her even more right now. Why? Because after all of the trauma and abuse for the entirety of their almost 60 years of marriage, his hallucinations, his delusions, his night terrors, and his loss of faculties are seen as more punishment that he is putting her through. I can't even fathom how horrible this is. It's absolutely horrible. He stopped dialysis, stopped eating, is pasty white, can't speak, has horrible speech, can't finish a thought, is weak. It's a natural progression of the body shutting down on itself. Yet, my mother thinks he is purposely continuing to torture her. My God. Even as I write this, I'm crying. It's horrific. It's torture. For them both. I feel for them both and hope that they can find peace. 

My quest for peace is ongoing. I'll figure it out. I just need a minute to process this mess. 

Update:

On Monday, November 30th at 12:40pm, my dad passed. 

The last thing I said to him was, “I love you, dad.” He said, “I love you more.” 



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