Friday morning, the day after Thanksgiving, my sister and I woke up early and headed over to the hospital. My other sister and step-mom were already there.
We just spent time with our dad, without anyone else in the room. It was a nice change to the pace that had been of the room being overflowing all the time. My dad was off all of the machines and was starting to turn really Yellow from his liver failing. It was not easy to look at.
I sat at the end of us bed, in a chair facing him. I just looked at him. I thought about so much and nothing at the same time. My dad was dying before my very eyes. I felt numb.
At about 9:45, I noticed that my dad had goosebumps. My dad was NEVER cold, my dad was always sweating. When I saw the goosebumps, I knew it was the end. My dad took one last struggling breath, and that was it. He was gone.
My sisters, step-mom, and I cried and were there for each other. We each grieved different things and in different ways. My step-mom lost her husband. My sisters lost their dad. I lost my dad, but in a different way than my sisters did. In a lot of ways, it was just a new kind of mourning. My sisters had many more good years with our dad than I did. It was just different.
We stayed at the hospital most of the day.
Family came and went.
We said our goodbyes.
It was weird driving away from the hospital, knowing that we wouldn't be going back to see Dad again. That was it.
I did all I know how to do. I cried and went to Target to get Christmas decorations.
We went back to the house and put up the Christmas tree, that Parker soon pulled down on top of himself that made me pee my pants, and just spent time together.
On Sunday, we had a memorial BBQ for my dad. It was his style.
BBQ, Pepsi, and no frills.
On Friday, November 27, 2009, my dad took his last breath.
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