I am having a hard time moving forward with all of this weight of loss and grievance. I lost my 56 year old dad, who I was exceptionally close with. He was my person. Most people have their mom as their person. I had two people as my person: my dad and my maternal grandmother. I my dad and I swapped spots in December and then lost him in March and my maternal grandmother and I swapped spots last October. I have to be her rock and had to be my dad's until the end. I have never been "rock-less". I have siblings and my mother, but I have not been close to them since I was a pre-teen. My pre-teen and teen year were with these two people along with all of my adulthood. I've lived on my own since 18, but these have been my go to people for silly questions, advice, and support. I have never been free falling. 

My dad also had a terrible end. I fought so hard for him. He deserved so much better. Our health care system appalls me. He was just 56. I am so heartbroken, angry, and miss him. We talked everyday, if not every other day.Then for his last three months, almost four I spent everyday with him. Half of it was 24/7 and the other half was +12 hrs a day except Thursdays. I was only with him for six-eight hours depending on the day, Thursdays were my friends' night. I would always end up back at the nursing home after though to make sure he was comfortable and content. That is all I wanted for him, comfort and content. I knew I couldn't fix fix, cure him, or make him happy all the time. He was dealt a bad hand. Stage four kidney cancer that was all over and in his spine and it had almost already entirely consumed both lungs. There was no fixing it. I hadn't see my dad since June and his back was hurting him, but I thought it was just acting up because he was 6'8 and it happened once a blue moon. The thing was him and his family weren't telling me everything as to how bad things were and they were not real worried about it. They were stupid. I have been out of state for five years and went down every other month at least if not more for the first four years because I was only a two hour greyhound away, but this past year I had only gone down the once since Christmas because I moved +700 miles away and had gotten married--which I am sucking at. No one was talking about how poorly he was doing or the fact he had been doing poorly nonstop. He didn't even tell me that. 

I am angry that he is dead because of lack of action on his part, his doctors' part, and his family's part. I am so angry. I had just graduated college and was a newly wed. I was finally able to do more with my life and for-fill my promise to him, to take him to Barcelona Spain. I was finally going to make him proud. I was going to be able to take care of him instead of my paternal grandmother taking care of him. I was going to for-fill my promise. I am a weird one, I do not make promises that I cannot keep and I do not say I love you, unless it is 102% true. I am hard on that. Ask my husband, it drives him insane. I take it very seriously. 

When I went down to FL in December, I thought I was just going to be down there for a week and we didn't know my dad was a dead man talking until after being in the hospital for two weeks. We were in that hospital, a month. He had spinal surgery that was unnecessary and caused him more issues and pain and prevented him from ever going back home. It caused far more issues than fixed and he was never going to recover to begin with. Why did they do that him. I wanted to go down there before the surgeries, but him and his family told me to come after the procedures if at all. I listen to them. I never have listen to anyone in my life before. But I did this time. The one time I shouldn't have. My dad was by himself drugged up making these choices and my paternal grandmother was going with them with misinformation from the hospital. I showed up on the day of the last surgery. I went in believing he was have a kidney surgery. Nope it was a second spinal surgery. His last few months were a shit show and I couldn't fix for him. 

I miss him so much. I have never gone this long without talking to him. I want to know that he is okay now. I want him to be okay. I want him back. I want this night mare to be over. I want to hear his ringtone. I want to hear his laugh. I want one of his jokes. I want him to ask me about Lord Thunderbutt (the nickname he gave my cat, who he adored). I want to hear him say "yep" in his poppy way. I want one of his, "are you that dumb?" looks. I want all of his looks. He was one of those people who have a loud face. I miss him. I want him back. I cannot do this alone and I need to know he's okay. I need to know that he is okay. I need to.