It's been a while since I wrote. I've been terribly busy. I finished upgrading and entered the engineering transfer program. The program was brutal. I was spending sixteen or seventeen hours a day doing school stuff. Everything was going well until about the second week of classes.
What happened next changed my course yet again. I was waiting to enter the engineering mechanics lab and I was scanning Facebook to pass the time. I read my sister's status update. Usually, she posts funny baby pics, but this time things were darker. My father had just had a stroke and was hospitalized.
The floor dropped out on me. I was in shock. I walked into that lab and put forth a dismal effort. A few provinces over, my father was laid up in a hospital and I had no idea what condition he was in. It was hard to focus or care about resultant forces at that point.
A phone call to my mom netted me some grim news. My father had a massive brain aneurysm (blood vessel broke in his brain) while he was in bed at the trailer. My mom had walked in and found him lying there, surrounded by his loyal beasts. At that point, he still had some control over one of his hands and he had been somewhat responsive. There was no way of telling how long he'd been there like that, but my mom had been gone for several hours. He was rushed to the hospital.
I was stunned. I was stuck here in AB, but I wished I could afford to drop everything, fly home, and be there for my family. I didn't go. Being a student, my financial situation didn't easily support last-minute trips across the country. Being an engineering student, missing any school at all would jeopardize my chances of making it through. I elected to stay here. I couldn't have done much good back home anyways.
I should've gone back. My dad was in a coma and my brain was not in the "engineering game". Things were fuzzy for me. The brain was otherwise occupied and I couldn't bring it back on track. I am capable of inhuman focus, but the stress of everything was too much and I couldn't focus. All I could think of was my poor mom and sad sister back in Ontario.
My dad was never going to really be my dad again. Even if he woke up, there had been such tremendous damage to his brain that he would have been vegetative. We decided to put in a DNR (do not resuscitate) and opt for minimal medical intervention. He wouldn't have wanted to live in a vegetative state.
We'd made a similar decision for my brother many years prior. My brother sustained a terrible brain injury in a car accident and was unresponsive. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. I remember sitting with him and holding his hand as he stopped breathing and started to go cold. I remember his Black Flag tattoo (looked homemade). I remember everyone leaving me alone in there and weeping uncontrollably. The experience has been stuck in the forefront of my memory ever since. It was not an easy decision, but it was definitely the right decision. I still miss the little fella. We didn't agree on anything and we were different people, but I loved him more than he knew.
A week later, my dad died. I'd been floating in limbo. It sounds a little terrible, but I was relieved. He'd worked like a dog his whole life and deserved a rest. While I was relieved, my world was in a spin. Karen (my long-suffering bride-to-be) and I arranged to head home for the funeral. It dawned on me that when I landed, my dad wasn't going to be waiting at the airport with a big smile on his face.
My sister picked us up at the airport and drove us back to her house. I was happy and sad to see her, given the circumstances. As always, my niece put a smile on my face. :) The next day, Karen and I drove back to Guelph with my mom.
The house in Guelph felt half-empty. It was too quiet and there was a large Dad-shaped hole there. My mom was crushed, but too tough to show it. My mom and dad were old-school. They'd been together since high school, got married, had kids, and stayed married (even though they occasionally wanted to kill each other). A constant in her life had been messily removed. I am not overly empathic, but even I could see how hurt she was. I couldn't even fathom what her situation must feel like.
The funeral was fitting. All of my people were there, in person or in spirit. My sister read a couple of good poems and my aunt laid down a tearful eulogy. I went a different route. My dad was a funny guy, so I shared some of that humour/peculiarity with the attendees. It felt good to laugh.
About my friends... They are the greatest friends a guy could have. I don't see them often enough, but when I do see them, it's as though no time has passed at all. We talked of old times and old fights and they helped me through a lot of pain. Thanks, ladies and gentlemen. You made everything easier than it should've been.
I haven't had time to sit and think much about the void in my life. Emotional processing isn't my strong suit. I miss my Dad. I still haven't completely come to terms with his death, but things are getting easier. I feel like I can start to breathe again. I'm not a religious guy, but part of me hopes that he is walking around somewhere with good joints and a good back, playing with all of his dogs that went before him. He is probably reminding them how to beg for people food.
It doesn't get any easier for me. I'd never admit it in real life (except to a precious few brothers), but I acutely feel the lack of Dad. I was always proud of him. He worked so hard at jobs that sucked to support us. He put up with his delinquent children and still managed to love them. He constantly sat under a swarm of small beasts. Love you, Dad and I miss you every day.
