Who else has lost a parent? - Page 2

I'm 23 years old and my father is 73 (do the math). He's still up and about, moderately healthy, but ever since January I've been thinking more and more "is this his last year?"

And I've been getting the rising urge to talk more to him, argue less with him, know more about his past, etc.

My father's got TIGHT connections with the government here, especially during the late 70's and 80's. He has pictures shaking the hand of the (then) king of Spain, a picture with Al Gore (who still sends a generic Christmas card every December), with Ted Kennedy and he casually mentioned to me the other day he's friends with Pelosi from years back. I just found out three weeks ago he's been in California. I never knew that! Lord knows where else he's traveled to.

He told me about how when he was 18 he and a friend worked delivery for a radio station in San Juan and one day (I don't remember how they figured it out) they went to a wedding and since the radio station's name was written on the car they used for the deliveries the people let them in and they would eat their food and drink and dance and leave later, all because they thought they were there to cover the "local wedding". My dad was a wedding crasher before Vaughn!

I find myself urging him more to take it slower, to not work so many hours, etc.

My heart's gonna break when the big lug isn't around anymore.

I'm 23 years old and my father is 73 (do the math). He's still up and about, moderately healthy, but ever since January I've been thinking more and more "is this his last year?"

And I've been getting the rising urge to talk more to him, argue less with him, know more about his past, etc.

My father's got TIGHT connections with the government here, especially during the late 70's and 80's. He has pictures shaking the hand of the (then) king of Spain, a picture with Al Gore (who still sends a generic Christmas card every December), with Ted Kennedy and he casually mentioned to me the other day he's friends with Pelosi from years back. I just found out three weeks ago he's been in California. I never knew that! Lord knows where else he's traveled to.

He told me about how when he was 18 he and a friend worked delivery for a radio station in San Juan and one day (I don't remember how they figured it out) they went to a wedding and since the radio station's name was written on the car they used for the deliveries the people let them in and they would eat their food and drink and dance and leave later, all because they thought they were there to cover the "local wedding". My dad was a wedding crasher before Vaughn!

I find myself urging him more to take it slower, to not work so many hours, etc.

My heart's gonna break when the big lug isn't around anymore.

It is. I lost one parent in 2004 after a similar situation to the one you describe, and my other parent in 2001 with no warning at all. I found neither scenario preferable.

It sucks to watch, but do whatever you can for em. Errands, listening, whatever. Someone that weak can have problems even communicating with doctors or nurses, and they need an advocate. It makes a big difference. Just do what you can to step up and facilitate.

It is. I lost one parent in 2004 after a similar situation to the one you describe, and my other parent in 2001 with no warning at all. I found neither scenario preferable.

It sucks to watch, but do whatever you can for em. Errands, listening, whatever. Someone that weak can have problems even communicating with doctors or nurses, and they need an advocate. It makes a big difference. Just do what you can to step up and facilitate.

I'm nineteen and I lost my father of Cancer on the 30th of December 2004.

I'm nineteen and I lost my father of Cancer on the 30th of December 2004.

I lost my father in 2002. I was away in Afghanistan at the time for Operation Enduring Freedom. I had spoken with him before I left, but put off calling him for a few weeks while I was there. Then one day I was informed by a Major that he died the day before. That was the longest, loneliest flight home I've ever taken.

I lost my father in 2002. I was away in Afghanistan at the time for Operation Enduring Freedom. I had spoken with him before I left, but put off calling him for a few weeks while I was there. Then one day I was informed by a Major that he died the day before. That was the longest, loneliest flight home I've ever taken.

I lost my Dad a little over eleven years ago when I was nineteen, I still get moments where I just suddenly get struck by a distinct memory of him without fail. It's wierd I was getting better with it the last few years - even the ten year anniversary, then we had the eleven years a few weeks back and it hit me harder than it had in a long time.

He was my best mate, my mentor, my hero and the man who turned me into the cinephile I am today (I still find it hard watching a new film that I know he would have adored and know we'll never be able to share it).

I love you Dad

One of my best friends from high school died in '98, and this is one of those bizarre thoughts that passes through my head about him as well. He was a big kung fu/Woo/sci-fi action fan, and I know the Matrix would have blown his mind, for instance.

Sorry for the slight derail.

My condolences to everyone who's lost a parent, I have a hard time even thinking about it. I haven't seen my dad since I was 4(although we talked on the phone for a good while after that), and I'm debating whether I should "meet" him or not. If he were to die tomorrow, I'm not really sure if I'd care all that much. But at the same time I know that he and I are very similar in a lot of ways, and I may be missing out on some wisdom(or something, wisdom sounds selfish on my part). Reading this thread(as well as a lot of thinking I've been doing, of course) makes me think I really should.

I lost my dad in 1987, 20 years ago this week. It's tough, Banks, but remember the good times and yeah, write a lot down. It helps.

Jonathan Banks, I'm so sorry to hear about your Dad.

While I'm lucky to have both parents, I lost my brother to cancer three and a half years ago. He was only 46 (he wasn't a smoker, and we don't have a history of cancer in my family. It was just one of those shitty, horrible things that happen sometimes). Not a single day goes by that I don't miss him. He was such a good guy, such an incredible sweetheart, and that's not just because he's gone. Seriously. One of our favorite stories about him was how one freezing cold night in NYC, around Thanksgiving, he and my sister-in-law were walking down the street when they saw a homeless woman sitting on the sidwalk, barefoot. My brother stopped, stepped out of his shoes, took off his socks and gave them to her, and stepped barefoot back into his shoes. That's the kind of guy we lost, and he did stuff like that alot.

When the end came, he died quickly after suffering for a year through the chemo and the treatments. He died in my mother's arms. Unfortunately, he also died right in front of his two kids, my then-13 year old niece and 9 year old nephew.

My parents are my bigger worry. Not only are they both elderly (Dad turns 80 in a few days, and Mom is 77), but this has aged them about 10 years. They both look so much older than they are. And you know, they love all four of us, but my brother was their favorite. He was pretty much everyone's favorite. I always jokingly say - I'm the youngest, but he was their baby. And you could hold my parents' feet over a hot flame, and they'd never admit in a million years that they have a favorite kid, but they did, and this has just taken the wind out of them. My Mom, actually, has made some great positive strides in the grief support group she joined. She's channeled her grief into some really positive things, which she always says "I'm doing this in his memory." My Dad - not so much. He's kind of just gotten himself into more of a black hole. He tries, he sees a therapist, but he just hasn't been able to turn the grief into something he can do anything with the way my Mom has. And I worry about him, a little more than Mom. It's like my brother's memory and doing really good things in his honor keeps her going. I wish my Dad could do that, but they're cut from very different cloth.

All my condolences go out to anyone here who has lost someone they love, no matter who it is. It's hard, and it takes time.

There have been so many beautiful things shared in this thread. It makes me (and hopefully everyone else) feel less lonely in my grief.

I did want to share one more story, after talking to my sister about it yesterday.

Friday was my birthday, and I was lucky enough to spend it with my mom and sister and two of my nephews, but then I had to get on an airplane to fly back to DC. The previous days had been filled with so many plans, so many logistics, that I really hadn't had time to think about anything. I was purely reactive. I spent most of that plane ride asleep, and really the whole time between saying goodbye and hello in a sort of fog. (Really, the past two weeks have been a fog, but it's getting better.)

Before I left my mom had told me that she'd already sent my birthday card before leaving for my sister's. I didn't realize until I got home and opened it that she'd actually sent it July 2, just a few days before my dad passed.

The card was written in my mom's hand but actually from both of them. She said dad wanted me to know how proud of me he was, and he'd sent along a small gift to show it. It was a Cross pen, a gorgeous writer's tool, the kind of thing you keep on high shelves. That was the moment when it actually hit me, that he was really gone. That I'd never get a little card or note or pen or day planner from him again (he sent them a lot, just to let me know he was thinking about me). Just that I'd never see him or talk to him again. It was devastating. I broke down and couldn't fix myself.

But yesterday I talked to my sister about this, and she thought of it another way: How wonderful it was that even in his dying days he was thinking of his children first. He wanted to make time to show me how proud he was. And now I have something to memorialize that. Something I can show my own kids, so that the stories about their Gramps aren't just stories.

It's a beautiful thing.

Banks- I'm glad to hear a very positive story related to your father passing. I just came across this thread by chance and reading over the posts of the past 6 years has dredged up some of my baggage (both good and bad).

The summer before my sophomore year in high school my sister ended up killing herself. It was particularly hard because my parents were both alcoholics (my father an abusive ass on top of it). Joann was really the person who raised me- she would cook for me, she taught me how to do the laundry, she got me a guide to sex for kids- knowing full well that no parental discussion would occur. I have no doubt that the person I am today (the good parts) are thanks to the way she stepped it up when my parents were in alcohol-absentia.

I took her death in a horrible way, particularly due to it being completely out of the blue. I still think about the day it happened and can recall all minutia pertaining to it. That summer I threw myself into the cinema as a way to forget for 2 hours at a time just how much I hurt.

I try to remember the good times, the fun times and the bizarre moments we shared, but there is one story that really stuck with me. I remember vividly a time when my sister and I went to the movies. My parents were gone for the day and she drove us to the Sterling Towncenter 3 in Virginia so that we could catch a showing of "The Muppet Movie". Afterwards we drove back home eating ice cream cones singing songs and me doing Kermit impressions. The reason this really sticks in my mind is due to the fact that I know this day happened. It had stormed while we were in the theatre, and had cleared up as we left- the sky was a brilliant red at dusk and I was eating an orange sherbet cone. The thing is, looking back, even if the movie was there as a revival (not unheard of back in those days) there was no way that my sister was of legal driving age to take us. The Muppet Movie came out in 1979 so we had to have seen it by 1981 when the Great Muppet Caper had come out. As an adult I am both horrified and totally impressed that she took the car out as (at most, a 14 year old) to take her little brother to see a Muppet movie in the theatre.

Banks- if you don't have plans next Thursday, the Arlington Drafthouse is playing Hot Rod. Lets get some DC Chewers together and I'll buy you a round.

Yeah...that's what I've been doing.

Sorry to hear about your parents, man.

Here's a fun one. This weekend I had to empty out my dad's attic, as the house is finally going on the market. It was the usual bittersweet separating of trash and treasure (fact - leave a magazine in a box for 30 years, and like magic, the ads are now the most interesting part), and I found a lot of great stuff, both my own that I forgot was up there, and my dad's. Then I hit a plie of stuff I don't know what to do with.

Long story, but my dad was a crime scene photographer in the early 70s. Since we lived in a small town, mostly it was just car accidents and such, but yesterday I uncovered a particularly grisly b&w photo essay of a suicide by handgun. A woman is lying on her couch, revolver in hand, the side of her head obliterated. Eyes open. In some of the shots, a policeman indicates the chunk of celing where the bullet ended up.

That's all. Just an odd wrinkle in this process. Don't know what to do with them.

Frame it. As weird as it sounds, frame the motherfucker.

If anything, it works as both something your dad did and a little bit of history of that town.

I can barely look at the damn things. Not a snuff fan. But I know some people would love this shit.

Halloween props?

Later this week, I get to find out whether or not my mom has pancreatic cancer. That'll be fun. She's all of 52 years old, way too young for this shit to be going on. There's a chance that it will be something benign, but needless to say I'm supremely anxious about the whole thing.

Neal, I'm really hoping hard that the news about your Mom is good. With luck, it'll be benign, something manageable. I do hope she'll be okay.

Phil!, I'd just keep it in a box with his other things that you're going to hang on to. I don't think you necessarily have to *do* anything with it, but I'd hang onto it if I were you. It's gruesome to look at, but it's a huge part of what your dad did for a living. My brother worked for the State Department, and I have one of his shirts with the state department seal on it. He wore that shirt alot, it's faded, I remember seeing him in it a bunch of times. So I don't have any intention of ever wearing it - it's just folded up in a small box of his things that I have. But it was a part of who he was, same as that picture your dad took, even if you never look at it again for years. I think the one really weird thing I have related to my brother's death is the pen from the guestbook people signed at his viewing. I stole it after the services. It's a state department pen, and apparently, one of his co-workers who helped us organize the services took it from my brother's office desk as the pen for the guestbook. I have it now. A little morbid, I know, but it was his first when he was still alive.

Best wishes to you and your family. That's a tough situation.

I lost a cousin in Iraq in 2003 and he was a huge Linkin Park fan so he wasn't here for the release of their then newest record so I bought it and mailed it to him. He died before it reached him and one day, a few weeks after his death, the CD arrived back at my mailbox.Boy did that suck.

I've kept it in the mailing package and all. I never told his parents and sisters, don't think I ever will. But I'll keep it since it's practically the last communication between us.

The power of useless simple shit is underestimated.

I almost feel like a dick for giving this update in this kind of thread, but looks like my mom's going to be a-okay. No tumor. Just found out.

No man, that's great news. Happy to hear it!

Never feel badly for being the bearer of good tidings. Enjoy your mom's good health. Bring her something nice to show you were thinking of her.

Yeah, don't feel bad about that. Congrats, and good luck to your mom.

Thanks guys.

Are you kidding? You should never ever feel like a dick for bringing that kind of great news! Congratulations, I'm really relieved for you - I know that must be a weight off.

Well, it sounds like my dad could go any day now. According to my step-mother he isn't waking up very much and he isn't able to eat or drink anything orally anymore. They moved him to a hospital bed located on the first floor of their condo and are giving him an IV, along with crushed up pills under his tongue. The doctor said he could last up to 2 weeks without drinking anything but because of his heart he probably won't.

Chris, I'm so sorry to hear that. Try your best to hang in there - I know it's tough. I'm hoping hard that maybe there's some kind of turn around for him, and my thoughts are with you.

Chris, I was really hoping for better news. I'm so sorry to hear this. Please let me know if there's anything I can do.

Thanks guys. I appreciate the kind words. I'm heading out to his place tomorrow, basically to say goodbye, but I'll keep you all updated.

Good luck man.

Just wanted to update everyone on the situation. Twenty minutes ago, my father died holding my hand.

Deep condolences, Chris. The loss is too keen and fresh to appreciate this right now, but take heart that you were there with him at the end. Even if he didn't know you were there thanks to the illness, it's appreciated.

Yeah, as someone who has regretted not having spent every last minute with deceased family members, that at least must be something. It must have been comforting for him to have known you were there right to the end.

So sorry, Chris.... so very sorry.

Let me know if you ever need anything.

This news makes me so heartsick. I won't presume to know what you're feeling, Chris, but I know something about what you're going through, and I'm so sorry you're feeling that pain. I'll tell you what I kept telling myself: He's not sick anymore. Regardless of your faith or beliefs, he's not sick anymore, and that's something.

Take heart, bro.

ETA: I also know you'll look back on the experience and be happy that you were able to be there. It'll mean the world.

Oh, Chris, I'm so so sorry. I know how terribly you must be hurting right now, and all my condolences go out to you. And please know, that as everyone here has pointed out, he knew you were there, and those last couple of moments together probably meant the world to him. And when you're able to process and accept this later on, it'll mean the world to you that you were there for him.

I'm so sorry, please know that we're all here for you.

Thank you so much everyone. It is appreciated.

When this thread got bumped my mother was just getting into the really hard, final stages of cancer. I never read it, and still haven't, because I was terrified to.

She died about 40 minutes ago. The upshot is the realization that nothing I'm likely to encounter in my life can ever hurt me worse than this. I no longer have any reason to fear anything.

But it's really fucking hard.

This was pretty much exactly my experience. It's been oxygen machines and tubes running through the house ever since I got back from college. When the actual moment came, it was very rapid and surreal, but not particularly more sad than any other day for the past few weeks.

Most of my sadness came from seeing her suffer rather than fear of losing her. She taught me a lot, and I have a store of great memories. She lived a full life, and was peaceful and happy at the end.

Unfortunately, I didn't get to have those "things unsaid" face-to-face talks. I was in denial about what was happening right up until two days ago, and by then her breathing was so bad she could barely speak. I never even really said "I love you", which makes me feel like a useless shit. I really thought there would be some kind of lucid period right before she went, where we would say our goodbyes and then just drift off.

It wasn't like that. I got back from the grocery store today just in time for my dad to tell me to go and be with her because her breathing was shallow. 30 or so seconds later he was crying and telling her to "fly away, baby" and that was that.

I'm still pretty well stunned.

So sorry to hear that, Cogs. My heart goes out to you. Hang in there.

Chris and Cogs, I'm so sorry for your losses. I'm sure the next few days will be extremely tough to get through so I hope you're both able to manage through it as best as you can.

My heart goes out to you and to your families.

Guys, I feel for both of you so much. There will always be unresolved stuff between people at the end.

When my mom finally went to a doctor after about a year of coughing she found that she had cancer and that it was so advanced that the pain of any treatment versus the life extension it could have brought would have been negligible. She ended up dying exactly 2 months after the prognosis, which had been the oncologists guess as to how long she had left. Even with that time, there are things that don't get addressed and thank yous never said- at least there certainly were for me.

I don't envy the pain you feel now, or the pain that will catch you at seemingly random moments over the years to come, but just being there, you honored them and gave them comfort for that ietting go.

Oh, Cogs, I'm so terribly sorry about your Mom. Please don't beat yourself up over things that were left unsaid - she knew. She knew you loved her, and still do. Please take care of yourself.

Thanks you guys. I'm feeling a bit better today. Got completely fucked up last night, but now a bunch more family has arrived and we're going to have a BBQ and play some cards.

I was told after the fact that she survived for 10 months after her diagnosis, with a lot of doctors telling her she'd be lucky to make it 3. She kept going to work, moving around, making dinner, etc... until the last week or so. I guess she had a series of milestones she was fighting to hit; she wanted to see all my sisters ballgames for that season, come to Cali to see me graduate, and make it to her anniversary.

On her and my Dad's anniversary, she actually got out of bed and came in the the living room to have ice cream with us, sit in her favorite chair, and even joke a bit. The next day was the day she died.

She was pretty fucking incredible.

EDIT: Also, this thread is having the dual-benefit of both letting me just talk about this stuff (I have difficulty talking about it out loud, even to close family) and getting me back into the groove of posting on Chud. I've been just lurking for about 2 and a half years, so it's nice to actually interact.

I lost my mom a few years back, and my dad when I was 14, so if you ever need to talk Cogs...well, let me know. These things can be a lot easier to talk about online than in person sometimes.

Oh, and welcome back to the boards.

Yeah, absolutely. I think this thread is a good idea, so if you need to talk, this would obviously be the perfect place to come to. My brother died four years ago this December, but you're still going to catch me coming here now and then to talk about him, because it takes lots of time. And you're always going to love that person - so as often as you need to talk about your Mom, please, come here and talk to us about her if you want.