Dad/Poppy

Today is one year since my father died. It wasn't as bad of a day as I thought it would be, maybe because I kept busy.

As I have mentioned in past posts, I work in a nursing home, the same nursing home that was my father's home for two years. I had every intention of describing his death in great detail. I thought I would have a need to go over every minute of his last breath but I don't and I think that is a good thing. All year long I kept wanting to tell everyone over and over again about those last minutes and wondered why I Felt like no one wanted to hear it or maybe it was because those last minutes were not as important to anyone else but me. I had never been in any one's presence when they died and I think it was very traumatic for me. I think the trauma is easing up. I got into work that morning and someone came to me and said that my father wasn't doing well. I went to his bedside and sat with him to the ends. I am so grateful to the Hospice staff they were there by my side to the end. My father kept calling my name like he really didn't want to go and I just kept tell him to go to sleep, I was there and I wasn't leaving.

He was a wonderful man, always there for my brother and I doing the best he could for us with what little he had in knowledge and wealth. My daughter was his only grandchild and he was so in awe of her. I tell everyone that she is good in math only because my father taught her how to plays cards when she was so very young.

One day during her high school years, she called me at work and said that we had forgotten she was going on a field trip and couldn't go unless she had the fee. I called my father. Luckily my parents lived very close to the high school. My daughter tells this story so often to her friends and brings it up almost every holiday. I have to tell it like she saw it. She was in the middle of changing classes and was coming down the hall toward the principals office. There was her Poppy still in his slippers heading for the office with a sealed envelop with the money for her field trip. He must have though it was important that he get there quickly, no granddaughter of his was going to miss a field trip. He rushed out of the house with his slippers on.

There are so many of these stories I could write a book. WE MISS YOU DAD/POPPY.