Painful Reminders

You know, it never crossed my mind that I would be the only family my dad had left....until it happened. Now, there are frequent reminders and each time I am reminded....I miss my mom and brother that much more.

Daddy is in the hospital...again. This time it's pneumonia and dehydration. His kidneys aren't functioning properly but that is probably due to the dehydration. No, it's probably not serious and will require only 3 or 4 days in the hospital. But it sparked that little niggle of emotion (anger? sorrow? both? more?) that he should have only me to depend on. Make no mistake, I love my dad and I will be by his side through whatever....I just feel that he is somehow cheated by not having other family members to fuss over him when he is having difficulties.

Losing mom was a slow and agonizing process. Her passing was almost a relief. She was in such emotional pain. Alzheimers is a hateful disease. It steals the mind of the one you love and leaves their body behind for a while. You've lost them, but you can't grieve their passing because they are physically still with you. I watched mom regress mentally until she was meek and childlike and would ask me, "Now whose kid are you?" She fretted that she would "get in trouble for being out too late with a boy." She was lost and scared because she didn't know most people and she couldn't seem to get home. The sorrow of her passing was softened in that I knew she would be relieved of her own personal hell.

My brother's death was another story. Unexpected, at best. No long drawn out illness. Just woke up jaundiced one day and two months later we buried him. I remember that a couple of weeks after my brother died I went to the cemetary and just stared at his grave...trying to make it real and make sense of it. After a while I got angry...then I let him have it. I said all the things that maybe I should have said while he was still alive to hear them. I railed at him for drinking himself to death. I reminded him that Daddy was still here and would require some taking care of as he aged and that I somehow always thought he would be there to finally step in and help with things. I cried...I yelled...I laid out the guilt trip...I told him how sad and disappointed I was. But the fact of the matter is that Bob was gone and Daddy was stuck with me. It was a fact that would take some getting used to. Guess I'm not there yet.

Remembering all of that, still when I got the phone call that Daddy was being hospitalized for treatment, my first thought was, "I'd better let Bob know." That's when it hurts the most...when you are suddenly and brutally reminded of the hole in your heart.