Who else has lost a parent?

Ironically a friend/co-worker Louise lost her father today. It shook our whole office.

It made me think hard about my dad...I can't imagine that day when it comes.

I feel for you Nick, but I cannot be of any help...sorry.

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-KRONOS AN ARMY OF ONE

My Mom has Alzheimer's. She's still alive, but it's like I've lost her. It's amazing how much she's deteriorated in the past 3 years. It tears me apart to see her lose her mind a little bit at a time.

I miss her.

Nick, while both of my parents are still with us, know that I can at least relate to you on some level because, as you know, Jackie (my wife to you Chewers) lost her Mother in March.

Not like losing your own parent, I know... but I'm closer to understanding your loss.

They were very close and she lived with us for over two years before she passed. It's still something that we're grappling with after 7 months... and the emotional and financial battles seem never-ending.

I miss her too, but it's been my "job" to try and hold things together.

It's important to never forget and remember all the good times... You know, all the cliched stuff that actually IS important.

You seem to have done well. I know how close you were to "Big Nick". Hell, you're the closest thing to an actual clone I can think of. But you've handled it perfectly so far, in moving on with your life while keeping your father's memory and legacy involved closely with everything you do.

As corny as this may sound, you must know that he's still with us in some ways... because he's in you.

I notice this with Jackie, too. The more time wears on, the more I notice aspects of her Mom's personality and soul in her. It's strange how that happens.

I don't know what else to say (or share). You know how I feel. And I suppose I'll now "leave the floor" to those among us who have lost their own parents. I just suppose losing a Mother-in-Law (who I did have a good relationship with and did love like a mother) and experiencing my wife's loss is as close as I can get to understanding yours.

Just know that somewhere your Dad is very proud of you (and watching the Yankees. Who knows, maybe he's behind some of their "magic"? )



[This message has been edited by Carl Cunningham (edited 10-26-2001).]

Nick, you have my deepest sympathies. Treasure all the memories you've had with him. That's what he would've wanted.

I too had a father, Nick. Though he is still living, I think otherwise.....

My dad left me when I was 2 months old. When I was 10, he wrote me a letter saying that he will meet me on Christmas Day. I anxiously stood by the front gates waiting for him. He never arrived.

Finally, I got to meet him when I was 21 years old. We secretly met in San Bernardino at his sister's house. His wife found out about it and bought plane tickets for her daughter (my sister) to fly from Dallas to California.

My father was "slow-witted" and had grown fat. Not the way I had imagined and seen him in photos. He made advances with my mom thinking that they could reunite again. It was an unfortunate time because he was having problems with his present wife. Anyway, he felt rejected by my mother's disapproval of him.

When we both parted ways, I later received a specially-delivered letter with my mother's photo all torn up in pieces with a brief letter saying that he has disowned me, that he never loved my mother, and that I should stop writing to his daughter, my sister.

I have that letter to this day with my mother's torn photo. I have forgiven, but I refuse to forget.....

Nick, be blessed to have known a father, regardless of how long he has lived.

I'm really sorry Nick..

I'm sorry, Nick.

Damn, Nick.. sorry to hear about your Grandmother.

That's heartbreaking. Please take care, and we'll be praying/thinking about you and your family, Nick.

Im sorry. I lost my mother in 1989. I was five, and my little brother was seven months.

Nick, this is kinda gay <g> but I hope this will cheer you up.....



My grandma past away this August. Today would've been her 72nd birthday, but her cancer and multiple myeloma won. Nick, get a piece of paper and just write down everything you feel. Just do it. It helped me out and it may help you out as well. It hurt. But it helped.

Nick, pardon me, it is not my intent to disrespect your thread, but I just want Verbal to look at my posting about my grandma in the "Shameless Link" board..... Verbal, everything you said about her and even her disease was very similar to my grandma..... Thanks Nick.....

I'm not usually one to share coherently. But, I know a bit about death especially over the past year.

My grandmother died over the summer, just a couple years after her husband. That wasn't so bad. I never really knew either of them very well. And, they were well aged... it was their time.

I've never lost a parent, but i have a girlfriend that has familiarized me with the tragedy. She lost both of her parents before she was 8. She even watched her father kill himself in her livingroom...

Death is difficult. It cannot be avoided. It cannot be dismissed. Death must be faced. If you believe it, take comfort in the fact that not even death is eternal. In any case, accept any sorrow and let it out. Optimism is helpful, but only after you've expended all the sorrow. My best wishes to everyone who's suffered loss.

My sincerest condolences Nick.

It's going to be nine years next month since my Grandfather passed away. At times it still feels like it was yesterday. My wife and I were living just a few doors down from my grandparents and when I got home that night there was a cop car and ambulance in front of their place. He had laid down for a nap in the afternoon, had a major heart attack, and never woke up.

My grandfather had been one of the healthiest men I knew. At 68 he was still playing tennis several times a week, went sking often, very low choloesteral. I never would have expected this to happen to him.

And to be so sudden. It really made me rethink a lot in life. You just never know when something like this will happen.


[This message has been edited by jw hart (edited 10-28-2001).]

I am so sorry Nick to hear of your loss

I lost my father 18 years ago. We never had a close relationship but as I've gotten older, I miss him more now than ever because of what could have been between us through the years. Since his death, the family has grown considerably and has gone through so much. What a shame he had to leave so soon as these are the years in which we could have possibly gotten closer.

I guess the pain that hits me more is the 'what could of been'....

This is the first time I have ever opened up on the internet about something so personal...

My thoughts and prayers go out to you and all your loved ones Nick

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~Eileen

"I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they've always worked for me." - Hunter S. Thompson

Sincere condolences, Nick.


I'm lucky, my parents married VERY young, and are only 17 years older than myself. I grew up knowing my great-grandparents, 3 of whom lived past 100 (We're mountain folk). I'm 40 now, and still have 3 grandparents alive and well. Like I said, I'm lucky.

Nick, I'm sorry for your recent losses. I lost my father when I was twenty (he was 56)and regret never having a complete relationship with him. He and my mother divoriced when I was two and we moved to another state. I spoke with him over the holidays/birthdays but only got to see him on maybe five occassions.

I'm sure you have many treasured memories of your times together and he will always be part of your life.

[This message has been edited by OmegaMan (edited 10-28-2001).]

Nick, my thoughts are with you and your family. I lost my Grandmother on June 28, 2000. I know the exact date because it was also my cousin's birthday.

She was in her mid-80's, however she survived an anuerism(sp?) in her late forties and multiple strokes -- one of which left her almost paralyzed and speechless. Over the next dozen years, my grandmother learned to speak again, but never to the capacity that she used to. She could only say short choppy sentences and often got frustrated because we couldn't understand what she was trying to say sometimes. It was hard for her to be a competent person (her memory, IQ, etc remained intact), but not be able to communicate well.

But even though she couldn't communicate in words, she always showed us how much she loved us by her willingness to not give in to a difficult situation. There were many times that she had to be hospitalized and we thought she'd never make it through and yet she would be home in no time cooking for her family (Jewish grandmother's make the most elaborate meals!) and living life the best she could.

I never knew her before her strokes, but I have seen lot's of pictures of her when she was younger. From what I've seen, she was doing much the same activities she enjoyed then, doing them well into her 70's and 80's. I definitely know where my stubborness comes from, 'cause nothing could stop my Grandmother when she wanted to do something.

As for my father, I never knew who he was until a few years ago when my mom sprung him on me when I graduated college. We have hung out a few times and he is really cool, but it's a wierd relationship because he was married at the time my mother had an affair with him. As he is still married to that woman, I can't contact him because she would find out that my dad cheated on her and had a kid. Even though it's 26 years later, he feels she would never understand. So in a way I've lost him because we can never have any real sort of relationship.

Mes sincères condoléances Nick et mes meilleurs voeux pour toi et ta famille.

My thoughts are with you and your family, Nick.

Of course, I'm keeping the Jenna Jamieson thoughts for myself, though.

I lost my mother many years ago. I remember the pain. I guess each generation tries to make it better for those in their family that follow them. I have found trying to honor that memory helps, by my actions I hope I can honor those who cared about me and tried to create a better future for me.

When I think about my Mom, I call my Dad right away, just to let him know I miss him and let him know I enjoy talking to him.

I'm sorry, Nick. I try not to think about my folks dying. Mom's planned suicide on and off through the years, and Dad doesn't like taking care of himself (has diabetes to boot). My granddad is in the final stages of congestive (sp?) heart failure. Just a matter of time.

Death sucks.

heh

I was honestly hoping never to see this thread again, but alas, it's inevitable.

My Dad lost his brave fight with lung cancer on July 6. He was 68. Too young for anyone to go, let alone someone with such vivacity. He'd never been in the hospital before. He'd never had any serious illness I can recall. But in the last couple of years he had a cough. Turned out to be a sign of things to come.

My Mom cared and tended to him every day for the past five months. Such a strong unit. I'm grieving for a father, but she's grieving for a life partner. In the end it's the most helpless feeling imaginable. You can't do anything for those who suffer and you can't do anything for those who grieve. You can only do for yourself, and even that's overwhelming.

The funeral was last Thursday in Rhode Island, where we had our best times as a family. It was lovely and moving and excruciating and sobering and life-affirming. I got to see him one last time at the viewing and he didn't look sick anymore, and that's the best I can say. You're not sick anymore, Dad.

Now I'm left with so many happy memories and the frustration that while I always knew him as a father, I was just starting to get to know him as a man.

I'm sorry to hear about your father, Banks. Keep your happy memories of him with you wherever you go.

Very sorry to hear this. My Dad also died at 68, back when I was in high school.
It takes a little while, but the happier memories take hold. The funny thing is, even though he's gone, you will get to know him better over time.

Thanks for the words, guys.

I'm hoping this will be the case, and I've seen it some already. My aunts and uncles were telling stories I'd never heard before that cast new light on him.

As has already been said, cherish the moments you did have and don't stress over the time you've lost. My thoughts are with you and your family, Banks.

As some on the boards have deduced, Banks and I were college (and for a few weeks when I first moved to DC) law school housemates. I wish I had thought of this story on Thursday:

While in college, Mike (Banks) and I would go out to eat pretty regularly. During these initial dinners, I noticed that Mike had this habit of talking-up the waitresses. Being polite by asking “how are you doing” after a waitress’s introduction is one thing, but Mike always took the conversation to that next level. Don’t get me wrong, Mike’s social nature with waitresses has lead to some of the funnier restaurant experience’s of my life, including the time Mike told a waitress that she looked like Allison Hannigan, which she took as an insult. But what made the habit so peculiar was that Mike despite being “normal” socially, isn’t one to immediately befriend a stranger. So for awhile, I wondered where he picked up that habit.

Flash-forward a few months and Mike’s parents ask us to dinner at some Tex-Mex place near their house in Michigan. After being seated, the waitress came over and went through the normal introduction. What followed was a five minute conversation between Mike’s father and the waitress, including Mike’s father’s attempts to order in Spanish. After that, I always accepted a dinner invitation with Mike’s family.

Mike’s father, initially only with the say so of his son, took me in as his own and made me feel like part of their wonderful family. I will always feel grateful to have known him.

One thing - write stuff down. Those fond memories, the fondest - maybe my brain is mush, but I know there is great stuff - ballgames, vacations, movies- that has disappeared from my noggin forever, never to return.

That's a great story.

Incidentally, I picked up both habits from him: flirting with waitresses and unknowingly insulting people. He was the best at both. As time goes on it gets funnier and funnier to me just how insulted she seemed about that. What's funny is that I meant it in sincerely. Hannigan had just done Stuff and looked hot. And the waitress wasn't sure if it was an insult until she checked with other people. "Um, I just asked some of the guys in the kitchen and they said that was definitely not a compliment." Classic.

I miss that place. Border Cantina. My favorite was always when he'd ask for the check: "La cuenta, por favor!" (it's funnier if you could hear me doing my impression of him)

I feel the same about your family. I know you were one of his favorite people, and he was proud to see the success you've had.

It sounds weird to call it the "favorite part" about all this, but in going through my dad's things, I've found whole chapters of his life (military overseas, grade school) that I knew next to nothing about. I described it to a friend as like finding lost scenes from a film you thought you knew up and down.

That's what scares me so much about a lot of my family, and why I was a wreck when my grandfather died a year ago. But Subotai and Phil are right, they'll live on in stories from other family members. I know I heard things where I couldn't believe we were talking about the same person. And I find myself repeating great stories to my younger cousins and friends.

Writing down stuff is a great idea, as I've felt that I've forgotten too much stuff as well. Sorry to hear about your loss, Mike.

I lost both parents within a year of one another. It's been seventeen years now, but I still miss them. My seven year old son always asks me about them. My dad would have drove my son crazy, but I think my son could have held his own.

Exactly. My uncles were telling me stories of Dad being a real brawler. I always knew him to be more of a diplomat (the man could argue an amputee out of his wheelchair), but he used to be quite the hot-head. He did a lot of physical work back then and saved up to buy a GTO. Now I picture him cruising Main Street in that beautiful car, looking for someone to pummel.

Condolences to you and your family, Mr. Banks.

My dad was diagnosed with lymphoma a couple of months ago and it hasn't been easy. His chemotherapy is still in it's early stages and things look good, so far. But these thoughts of possibly losing my Dad do creep in once in a while and it's the worst feeling ever.

It begins to take a toll on your psyche. I'm in the home stretch of finishing film school and heading out into the Producing world and it's been hard to concentrate recently having my Dad's health in the back of my mind.

But seriously, when you see how successful folks like Nick can be even after going through something devastating like this it's truly inspiring and helps me trudge along these murky waters of Hollywood.

Hell, I don't even know why I typed all that but this place is sometimes the most therapeutic in letting something like that out.

But all you people who've lost parents, my deepest condolences.

My dad died when I was about 10 years old. He was almost 60, and he was a hard-livin', cigarette smokin', liquor-drinkin' man's man. He had a heart attack (the 2nd or 3rd one I could remember) and his heart had swelled too much to fit him with a pacemaker. He was taken away too early for me, but he lived more than I'll probably ever live.

My wife's dad died when she was four. She unfortunately watched him drown while they were on vacation at the beach. We were just talking about missing our dads last night, actually.

Sorry to hear of your loss. My father died of a heart attack at the age of 57 on June 21st. A close friend of mine lost his to lung cancer in late May. It's still very tough, but it will get better. Having a good support network is invaluable.

As strange as you may find it to hear, this is my experience:

After nine years of dealing with the loss of my precious Daddy, I am closer to him now than ever.
I hope this is of some small comfort to you.
Warmest regards JB.

It's funny, I was just this morning thinking of some of the intensely personal things we have discussed here. I have always been impressed that in times of crisis, this community will immediately rally to give support to those in need. My heart goes out to all of you.

My deepest regards to you, Banks. I haven't lost my Dad, but went through a lot of the same thoughts twelve years ago when he had bypass surgery. He busted his ass to get out of the hospital by Christmas so that he wouldn't miss my son's first one. He's the strongest man I've ever known, and your post has reminded me that I don't tell him how much I love him enough.

Just the few posts that you and J have put up about your Dad makes all of us know him a little, and it is always a wonderful thing to know a great human being. I know that my Dad would have liked him.

I hope that this doesn't sound trite, but he will always be with you, and little things will make you laugh, cry, swear and sigh as you remember the times that meant the most.

This may not necessarily apply, as I haven't lost a parent YET, but I'm going to share this story anyway.

My dad recently contracted a rare disease called Amyloidosis, for which there is no known cure, and the doctors have given him six months to a year to live. This has been really hard for my brother and I to deal with, especially since we only reconnected with our father about six or seven years ago. Neither of us talked to our dad for more than 12 years thanks to a stupid argument related to my parents' divorce. It just feels like we wasted so much time thanks to that nonsense, and now that we have finally put it all aside and rebuilt the relationship, he's getting taken from us.

About two or three weeks ago, my dad suffered heart failure and was airlifted to the hospital. Thankfully, my step-mother (like my dad) was an EMT at one point in her life, and she was able to revive my father. However, had she not been there, dad would not be alive right now. It's a hard thing to deal with, knowing that your father could literally go at any moment. The week after that my girlfriend and I drove out to Menomonie to see him, and we ended up having to take him to the hospital because he was retaining almost 28 pounds of fluid in his legs and lower abdomen. Sitting there in his hospital room, he just looked so weak and frail and scared...it broke my damn heart.

The worst part of this whole situation is that my dad is an active, independent guy, and thanks to the disease, which affects the heart mainly, he is essentially disabled and bed-ridden. The simple act of going up and down stairs wipes him out physically, and he is pretty much in a constant state of exhaustion. He's had to miss so much...he and my step-mom practically raised my cousin, Nikki, and because of his condition he couldn't go to her graduation/going away party (she joined the Marines and shipped out for boot camp the very next day). There is just so much that he can't do, and it's really affecting him. His life is now effectively on hold, and that's taking more of a toll on him than the actual disease.

Anyway, thought this might be an appropriate forum to share that information.

This may not necessarily apply, as I haven't lost a parent YET, but I'm going to share this story anyway.

My dad recently contracted a rare disease called Amyloidosis, for which there is no known cure, and the doctors have given him six months to a year to live. This has been really hard for my brother and I to deal with, especially since we only reconnected with our father about six or seven years ago. Neither of us talked to our dad for more than 12 years thanks to a stupid argument related to my parents' divorce. It just feels like we wasted so much time thanks to that nonsense, and now that we have finally put it all aside and rebuilt the relationship, he's getting taken from us.

About two or three weeks ago, my dad suffered heart failure and was airlifted to the hospital. Thankfully, my step-mother (like my dad) was an EMT at one point in her life, and she was able to revive my father. However, had she not been there, dad would not be alive right now. It's a hard thing to deal with, knowing that your father could literally go at any moment. The week after that my girlfriend and I drove out to Menomonie to see him, and we ended up having to take him to the hospital because he was retaining almost 28 pounds of fluid in his legs and lower abdomen. Sitting there in his hospital room, he just looked so weak and frail and scared...it broke my damn heart.

The worst part of this whole situation is that my dad is an active, independent guy, and thanks to the disease, which affects the heart mainly, he is essentially disabled and bed-ridden. The simple act of going up and down stairs wipes him out physically, and he is pretty much in a constant state of exhaustion. He's had to miss so much...he and my step-mom practically raised my cousin, Nikki, and because of his condition he couldn't go to her graduation/going away party (she joined the Marines and shipped out for boot camp the very next day). There is just so much that he can't do, and it's really affecting him. His life is now effectively on hold, and that's taking more of a toll on him than the actual disease.

Anyway, thought this might be an appropriate forum to share that information.

I feel for you, brother.

I won't presume to know what you're going through, but my dad went through much of the same debillitations as a result of his treatment. For the rest of my life I'll carry with me the first sensations of being in my parents' house for the first time after he got sick. The bang and whirring of the oxygen machine in his study. The pencil-wide tubing running all over the house so he could get air when he needed it. The weight loss. The pale skin. The tube sticking out of his nose. This was someone who literally two months before was well over 200 pounds, physically imposing. Now this disease had come from nowhere to steal away 40 pounds and leave him to sleep all day because he doesn't have the energy to do anything else.

I will say, and certainly this is not to imply anything about your situation, Chris, that it helped me grieve. In a way I haven't had my father for five months, so it's been a much longer process than just the past week and a half. And because of that we got to say to each other things we always thought but never said, face to face. I'll always be grateful for that.

I feel for you, brother.

I won't presume to know what you're going through, but my dad went through much of the same debillitations as a result of his treatment. For the rest of my life I'll carry with me the first sensations of being in my parents' house for the first time after he got sick. The bang and whirring of the oxygen machine in his study. The pencil-wide tubing running all over the house so he could get air when he needed it. The weight loss. The pale skin. The tube sticking out of his nose. This was someone who literally two months before was well over 200 pounds, physically imposing. Now this disease had come from nowhere to steal away 40 pounds and leave him to sleep all day because he doesn't have the energy to do anything else.

I will say, and certainly this is not to imply anything about your situation, Chris, that it helped me grieve. In a way I haven't had my father for five months, so it's been a much longer process than just the past week and a half. And because of that we got to say to each other things we always thought but never said, face to face. I'll always be grateful for that.

Thanks, Banks. My heart goes out to you and yours as well.

Thankfully my dad and I made amends well before the disease took hold of him, and our relationship was made stronger. I would have hated for him to go without knowing that I love him, or feeling like the only reason we buried the hatchet was due to the disease. That at least gives me some peace of mind.

I guess I haven't hit the grieving stage yet, because a small part of me is still holding out hope that something can be done, though I know it's only matter of time now. I'm trying to be realistic about the whole situation, but it was still a like a hammer blow to my chest when my dad started talking about how he had gone to the funeral home and made arrangements to be cremated...I just don't want to hear that stuff. I mean, the guy is only 53 years old, and in good shape, or at least he was before the disease became full blown.

Anyway, thanks again, Banks.

Thanks, Banks. My heart goes out to you and yours as well.

Thankfully my dad and I made amends well before the disease took hold of him, and our relationship was made stronger. I would have hated for him to go without knowing that I love him, or feeling like the only reason we buried the hatchet was due to the disease. That at least gives me some peace of mind.

I guess I haven't hit the grieving stage yet, because a small part of me is still holding out hope that something can be done, though I know it's only matter of time now. I'm trying to be realistic about the whole situation, but it was still a like a hammer blow to my chest when my dad started talking about how he had gone to the funeral home and made arrangements to be cremated...I just don't want to hear that stuff. I mean, the guy is only 53 years old, and in good shape, or at least he was before the disease became full blown.

Anyway, thanks again, Banks.