My dad is 72 yrs. old, young by comparison. It's been hard watching the "gradual death" of a strong willed and very stubborn man. He is a good man who has been a good friend to alot of people, but he wasn't always such a good father. My dad is an alchoholic and that has caused alot of heartache from time to time. He has never admitted the problem, but believe me, it has been a problem for as long as I can remember. He worked hard all his life, retired from the railroad and that is where he contracted mesothelioma from the asbestos used for so long without anyone knowing what the end result would be. My dad and I were not close until after I was married for alot of reasons. He turned to me one time, when it was just he and I in the room, and said "I'm sorry." He will never know how much those two simple words will mean to me for the rest of my life. Luckily, I took the opportunity to tell him so. He has taken the time to plan everything down to the last detail of his funeral and has had most all of his belongings auctioned off with the proceeds going to my brothers and me at the appropriate time along with acreage in beautiful Montana where he lives and where I was born. That has been one of the challenges, I live in Washinton state, and he, in Montana. The distance has made dealing with his disease even harder. My brother and I just returned from an emergency trip back there after learning he was in ICU, again. When we reached the hospital and I bent over to give him a kiss, I could smell the smell that tells me it would not be long before my father would no longer be on this earth. You see, I've worked in healthcare in one form or another, directly with patients and/or residents, most of my life. I've been present at many a passing of someone I cared very much about, but this is different. How do you prepare yourself to say goodbye to your own dad? While there, we did get him back home to my wonderful stepmom who cares for him without question, she is truly an angel on earth. I have my youngest brother and his family that, thankfully, live in the same town. I was able to get Hospice started, we got him a scooter, and got a ramp up and into the house,a hospital bed came into his living room where he could look out toward the Bear Paw mountains . All that, with help, in a weeks time. During the time I was there, we each had a chance to have "one on one" time with him. To hear my dad tell me how proud he was of me and that he thought I had turned out to be a wonderful person, was the biggest gift I could have recieved from him. My dad was never one to express his feelings at all. I told him right then that I was walking away with a huge gift from him and that is how I will always feel. What I needed to hear most of all, all my life, I had finally heard. I told him it would be hard not to have him around and he told me I would be OK. My brothers and I have decided that at his funeral, which he has so carefully planned, horse drawn carriage included, that we will ride horseback, along with an empty horse carrying his boots, hat, and brush popper coat across the saddle, behind him to his resting spot. It's made it easier knowing that he is prepared in his heart, and every other way. He's actually gotten a kick out of planning his own funeral. It's been harder watching him suffer than it will be to grieve his passing.
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