The numbers of days you have been gone.
The number of months you survived after a diagnosis of stage 4 liver and lung cancer.
The number of tears that have been shed.
March 8, 2010 was the hardest day of my life. I am forever changed by this day. A day that started out completely normal. I woke up, got Dominic ready for school, the baby ready, myself ready and I started working at 7 am. My phone rang shortly after. I wrote a quick email to my supervisor and logged off of work. My aunt came and picked me up and we headed to my Moms. My Dad had not been doing well over night. I came in, hugged my Mom. Hugged my sister and my brother. My Dads family started to arrive shortly after. The hospice nurse too. I called my husband to come home because he was not going to make it through the day.
I will not post what happened after for the privacy of my family. Just know that it is not something anyone would want to see their father or anyone else for that matter go through.
A part of myself was lost that day. Innocence? I am not sure. I have yet to figure it out.
This day is engraved in my brain and I can picture it like it just happened. The picture is so vivid. The memory is still painful. I cannot tell how long it will feel this way, forever? Maybe.
RIP Dad. You are forever missed and loved by all.