Your father is deceased. in After OD
- Oct. 22, 2024, 6:56 a.m.
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- Public
My dad died. I knew it would be sooner rather than later, but it was still sudden and unexpected. Rob and I had been visiting his family 13 hours away when I got the phone call. His neighbors hadn’t seen him in a few days and called in a welfare check. PA state police came and found him in his bed, still with his oxygen on. They suspect he’d been there at least 2 days.
I was sitting at Rob’s parent’s kitchen table, my mother in law sitting across from me when the call came. I keep replaying the moment over. The words “your father is deceased” on constant repeat in my head. The look on my mother in law’s face of shock and sympathy. The absolute loss of breath as the news started to sink in. The incredible, instant agony and regret realizing that I hadn’t spoken to my dad in a month because he got mad at me over something stupid, and I would never get to speak to him again. His last words to me were angry and saying he was done talking to me. Neither of us knew how true that statement was at the time.
We had a complicated relationship. While in many ways I was a lot like him, in many others we had conflicting opinions and ideals. He suffered from narcissism, and I usually went along with what he said, simply to keep the peace. When I didn’t, hell to pay. He did not like to be challenged. His way, or no way.
However, there was a lot of good in him. He was generous to a fault. He’d give anyone a chance, and truly that’s when I’d see his Christian values in play. He was like Jesus, befriending society’s outcasts. He wanted to help people, even if it had to be how he deemed what was best for them, the desire was there.
As a dad, he did the best he could with what he knew from his own dad. Sadly, he could have done better. He was a workaholic, so much so that he was on a business trip when I was born. He provided though, and well, which was something his own dad wasn’t the best at. Money was important to him, a main focus of his life, if not the main obsession. It kept him from actually being there as a parent the way a dad should be. As he got older, and my daughter was born, he changed a little, in the sense that actually spending time together had become a priority. I’m appreciative of that, for my daughter’s sake.
Telling her of his passing was heart breaking. She was between classes and walking across campus. I had to tell her over the phone and the immediate cries were just a stab in the heart. He loved her dearly and she loved him.
I am struggling. Still processing. Trying to figure out what’s next. We drove the 13 hours back and got home around 12:30 this morning. My brother and I are meeting today to make plans. I’m dreading this. I’m dreading the next year of settling his estate.
I’m feeling so many things right now that I can’t make sense of it all.
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