Death and Dying
When my father was diagnosed with cancer seven years ago, nothing could have prepared me for what I was going to face the next six months. Death was something that happened to other people's parents. My father, not possible, at least not yet. He was one of the biggest men I have ever been next to, legs as thick as trees, arms that barely fit into shirts, and a back that resembled the grand canyon.
But he did get sick and he did die. And God knows during those six months we did everything we could, so he wouldn't. And then I thought the worse was over. But it just began. The emptyness that couldn't be filled, the pain that wouldn't go away, and the loneliness of not feeling like there was another soul who understood.
The first year was a long road. I didn't think I would make it, but I did. The years that followed became a little easier but never without my heart aching to see him one more time. Now seven years later, I wish I could say I was over it. Yes, life has moved on, I have many things to be happy for but the other day when my husband asked me if I still thought about my father ever day, I looked up at him and said, "Yes, there is not a day that goes by, I don't think of him. Sometimes those thoughts make me laugh and other times make me cry but I won't give up one of those memories for anything in the world."
And so I wrote my book to let others into my private world of denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally acceptance. My hope for you is-- if you have lost someone you love, you will find comfort from someone in your life. Someone to hold, to lean on, to be there with you because no one is strong all the time.
But he did get sick and he did die. And God knows during those six months we did everything we could, so he wouldn't. And then I thought the worse was over. But it just began. The emptyness that couldn't be filled, the pain that wouldn't go away, and the loneliness of not feeling like there was another soul who understood.
The first year was a long road. I didn't think I would make it, but I did. The years that followed became a little easier but never without my heart aching to see him one more time. Now seven years later, I wish I could say I was over it. Yes, life has moved on, I have many things to be happy for but the other day when my husband asked me if I still thought about my father ever day, I looked up at him and said, "Yes, there is not a day that goes by, I don't think of him. Sometimes those thoughts make me laugh and other times make me cry but I won't give up one of those memories for anything in the world."
And so I wrote my book to let others into my private world of denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally acceptance. My hope for you is-- if you have lost someone you love, you will find comfort from someone in your life. Someone to hold, to lean on, to be there with you because no one is strong all the time.