Thanks (((Britt))),
This was written 2 days after my Dad died. Family had come in, and were laughing and talking, acting like it was a family reunion. I, was in my bed, curled up, reliving what had happened 2 days before. It was like a constantly running video of one of the worst days of my life. Watching my father die right in front of me...giving them the word to stop trying to rescusitate him, after 20 minutes of no oxygen saturation and chest compressions.
My family and I have the faith that he had passed on to his reward for all he had done as a minister for over 50 years. He was a loving Pastor. But, they had NO respect for what I had witnessed, or the pain my mother and I were in.
I'll rephrase that. My younger brother, his wife, and my older brother were the ones being insensitive. Their children, my nieces and nephews, and the great-grandchildren who KNEW and LOVED their grandparents were the ones comforting me. It made me sick that my own siblings couldn't see what was happening.
My brothers have been gone from the home for 30-some years with rare visits and phones calls. They could be distant; they didn't really know my parents at this point.
The same brother's and their wives' have not spoken to me at all since it happened. I'm not angry, I am ashamed. They are 'the pretenders'. The 'habitual' Christians that I despise. They appear to say and do the 'right' things, but in truth, it's how they act, and not who they are. They 'sound' good, but true compassion and empathy? None.
Frankly, I believe they are angry that I will be getting a salary now from the VA because my presence and care are keeping her out of a nursing home. They have always believed I was the 'spoiled' one, because I had such severe depression, PTSD, and Fibromyalgia/Arthritis. I couldn't go back to work after my little girl died. Part of me died as well.
They are 'successful'...one, a Homeland Security officer, the other a Computer 'Genius' working in Las Vegas. One has a wife who writes stories, and has done some 'voice-overs' for cartoons. I've always been 'the black sheep' of the family, but I know the truth. They won't have any part of my mother from here on out. They are the ones' with the 'hard' hearts.
It is harder to stay with ones' parents as they age, and eventually die. It's hard, and scary, lots of responsibility, and fear of missing something. I'm fighting that one hard...but I won't let guilt win this time, and steal from me any peace. I was blessed to be the one who was there with him in the last moments, telling him it was his time to 'go home'. That we would be okay. I was holding his hand in his last moments; it was my voice he heard last.
I expect the ups and downs, but I will do my best to be the daughter who knew he was her hero. I hope HE knew he was my hero. I want to be like him. Steady, and constant in his belief. Compassionate, understanding, a good listener, and one who looked for opportunities to help others'. One of his mottos: "Always leave things better than when you found them."
Wow, I didn't know all that was bottled up inside...but I'm glad to get it out.
Thanks, Britt, for helping me 'purge' those feelings. :hug:
I hope this all makes sense. I'll re-read it tomorrow and edit if necessary.
