My Dad, Circa 2008
When people think of anniversaries, they think of happy events like wedding anniversaries. Birthdays can be even considered as the anniversary, a celebration, of one’s birth. But, the one anniversary that still stands out in my mind is the day my father passed away.
The “unphotographable moment” I wrote years ago is still accurate.
This is a memory forever engraved upon my mind of watching a man lying on a hospital bed with an oxygen mask having difficulty breathing slipping off to forever sleep under the influence of morphine all the while I am mentally screaming “That’s my Daddy. That’s my daddy. Oh daddy”. 1, 2
I still scream mentally whenever the memory is revisited. But, the pain of his death has eased.
The agony of what I went through prior to, during, and after this event still weighs heavily upon my soul. I wish I knew what my Dad said to Dan (my husband) as we said our goodbyes. I was present; but, I am deaf. Dad’s oxygen mask prevented me from reading his lips. A niece was present also. I asked her what Dad was saying to Dan. She refused to tell me and kept saying I should ask my husband. I did ask him (Dan). He didn’t want to talk about it at that time. And later, he stated he did not remember.
I’m not blaming Dan. I honestly believe he had blacked out those memories. It was a horrid time. However, I absolutely hate people denying me the right to know what was said. Mother’s constant refrain, “never mind”, throughout my life runs like a torrent through my soul. It bugs me how I’m often left in the dark.
There were some family issues going on during this time. At that time, I couldn’t be bothered. It got worse when someone came over to my mother’s house after Dad passed away to specifically talk to me. As a result, my mind and spirit were shattered.
Dad had not even been buried yet and I was caught up in some drama. I didn’t know what was going on or who to believe concerning certain events. I had to do some investigative work and, as a result, caught someone in a lie. In addition to grief, I was angry. Due to all of this and more going on, I couldn’t properly grieve at Dad’s funeral.
Note: There are so many holes in this piece of writing. Five minutes of writing may be therapeutic and a good exercise, but it’s not enough. For example, I did eventually process all that happened even if I don’t understand the drama (the whys and the wherefores) between certain people.
- My dad passed away January 13, 2009
- The Unphotographable memory was written in May 2011