By inathinworld

My Confidante, My Concierge, My Dad

I was always a daddys girl and even through mt amazing dad died nearly three years ago, I think I still am.  My quit date was the twenty-second of February – the day that would have been my dads 63rd birthday and as, just before he died, he asked me to quit, I decided to do this for my dad – one final act of love. 

My dad had been a lifelong smoker, with the exception of a few years in my late childhood where he quit, and although he didn’t die of lung cancer and didn’t have COPD, it definitely contributed to his death.

Dad had always been a large man – in all ways, tall, broad shouldered and quite overweight – but he had always been strong and healthy.  He worked as a senior manager in an international manufacturing company and he thrived on the stress and the control – until he was in his mid 50s he’d never taken a day off sick from work and then he got sick. 

The first instance was a suspected heart attack which turned out to be angina – this was frightening and was his first trip to hospital but he bounced back quickly and, although decided to leave his stressful job, he started cooking afternoon tea for the local cricket clubs.   While he was in hospital they found that he had type 2 diabetes and the managing of his blood sugars became almost a game to him – a game of balance between bisuits and insulin – very frustrating to watch.

Over time his diabetes became worse, he had a small heart attack and then a series of small strokes… one after the other, often leaving him speaking nonsense or like Donald duck for a few hours.  My dad was a very clever, intellectual and funny man but he continued to smoke and mis-manage his diabetes.  I loved him so much but it was incredibly upsetting to watch at times. 

Five years ago he was admitted to hospital with an infection in his leg, the next day he had a major stroke and went blind and then spent the next week unconcience.  My amazing, kind, funny dad spent the next two years in hospital.  He was always on oxygen, never regained his sight and had to have his leg amputated at the knee.  I loved him so much and my brothers and I were with him when he died.  Although not all down to smoking, his illnesses and death were caused by poor lifwe choices.  He always wanted to live fast amnd die young, always telling us he’d die of a massive heart attack at 50 – instead he was 60, in pain and infirm. 

I am not great poet but I did write an epitaph and although very personal, I want to share it as I think, reading this, it is difficult to get an impression of how special he really was.

Funny, quick, wise and kind
Always knew the answer, always spoke his mind

I never knew emptiness, never understood sad
Until I lost you
My advisor
My confidante
My conscience
My Dad.   
Sorry for your loss. thank you for sharing such heartfelt words.
He would be so proud of you for doing this. Thanks for sharing
With motiviation like that it is impossible to fail. you got this. do it for him.
beautiful. Sorry for your loss. Stay strong and make him proud :)
thank you. writing is good therapy