I am sorry you could not see him before he died.  We always want to repair issues with those we do love before they die.  But too often there is no time.

Take care of you.  And we are here for you should you need us.  Bless you Dharma/Karen.

Dharma call me if you want to talk hon,  I'm so sorry you lost your dad.  It's really hard to not be able to go there too and have the usual closure.

You have my number,  call if you want to.  Love you gurl!  Prayers for your dad and you both. 

Thanks, Miah.  I will....

Thanks, Sally.

I lost your number when I had to reinstall the OS on my laptop, or you'd have been one of the people I called as soon as I found out.  Can you email it to me?

Thank you.

Thank you, Amy.

Ne'er a truer word was spoken.  I know that I'll see him again....but it's still painful and it still sucks.

Those are all the words I need.  Thank you.

I'm calling the bereavement counsellor at the hospice tomorrow.

In a way, I'm glad.  I think that his deterioration would have been too much for me to manage.  He'd gone downhill and aged a lot in the past few months, apparently.  As it is, I'll be able to remember him able to get around unassisted by wheelchair or rascal and pain-free.

Thank you.

Again, I lost it when my hard drive crapped out on me.  Can you email it to me again? 

Thank you all for your kind thoughts and symapthies.  They really are appreciated.  This hurts, y'all.  It really hurts.  I keep thinking that I'm having a particularly bad dream and that I'll wake up soon and my dad will be alive.  I keep wanting to call his house in the hopes that he'll pick up the phone.  Knowing that I'll never see him again and even worse, never hear him again.....it makes my heart hurt.  It doesn't help to hear preachers talking about how my dad won't go to heaven because he wasn't 'born again'; that makes me want to punch someone's teeth down their throat.  Yes, he could be a bad tempered old coot, but he was honest and loving and he always tried to do the right thing.  He and I came to an understanding as I got older....I began to understand why he did some of the things he did, and I forgave him for all of the things I didn't understand or agree with.  He, in turn, stopped crticising me and became (along with many other things) my personal gardening guru and squirrel assasin extraordinaire.

I keep trying to console myself, telling myself that he's free of pain now, but it's not working and I keep crying.  Maybe one day it'll work, but today's not that day.  Today, I'm being selfish and I'm crying because I want him back, I want him to last forever, to always answer the phone when I call and to be able to meet his grandchildren when we go over there to visit.....

....but reality is tugging at my sleeve and I know what it's going to tell me...that even dads have to pass away.  I know that this is true, but oh how I wish it wasn't.

He had a long, full, productive life.  He's been on borrowed time since his first heart attack 21 years ago - were it not for timely medical intervention and new drugs, he'd have died in his bed that night. 

Me too, Tex, me too.  Look after your dad, chickie.  Talk to him as often as you can and make sure he knows that you love him.  Make the most of him.....

I've been doing that this afternoon, chatting with Dave about the things dad did and said that made us laugh.  He really enjoyed fly fishing, and when Dave and I were first married, he was dying to take dave out and show him how to fly fish.  When they came back from their 5 hour trip, dad looked at me and said "you could have bloody told me he was keck handed! I had a hell of a time teaching him!" and then went off into his characteristic laugh.  Dave's left handed, you see.  Everything on the rod was backwards to him, and when dad had set up a rod for him, everything was backwards for my dad, which made it hard for both of them to teach and be taught!  They came back with half a dozen trout, through, which dad smoked and we had for tea.