At 4:55 am this morning I got the call. My Daddy was gaining his wings. His poor heart tore again, there was nothing they could do. It was time to let him fly free.
He fought hard.
He's earned his rest.
The shock, pain and ripples of despair are washing over me, just like the brilliant sunrise.
I had misunderstood the initial phone call. More puzzled with each call or text. I hadn't realized my Daddy was already gone, sitting and staring at my phone waiting for the call that let me know his battle was over.
Confusion overwhelmed me.
My baby sister so calm and stoic. Asking if I was going down with her today. Not understanding why she was hurrying to pack, to head down, when he would be gone before she got there. Not realizing he was already gone.
Puzzled. Confused. Struggling.
I've said good bye to few people in my life. I have never witnessed the death of a loved one. Only once have I stroked the cold hand of someone of importance in my life.
I don't know how to process this. I don't even know where to start.
When the transfer on Friday fell through I had the worst feeling. I've always believed that all things happen for a reason, to put us where we need to be. As my rattled brain is sorting through things, I see God's hand in the problems on Friday. They weren't problems or challenges. It was keeping Daddy with the people that have taken such good care of him through to the end.
Hubs reminded me this morning as I was sobbing into his chest, that my Daddy knew I had been there, when he squeezed my hand so tight he was letting me know that he knew. My sweet Hubs that was thinking of me, while dealing with losing his friend of over 30 years.
I keep hearing his Doctor saying Daddy's heart was big, not enlarged, just big. My Dad was the meanest SOB on the outside. He could hurt you so deeply, he was opinionated and distant. But the Doc was right, all of that tough, hard, shell that the world saw, protected the most loving, biggest heart, and gentlest soul I'd ever known.
He loved deeply and freely. Although he hid it from the world, no one was allowed to see the crack in his armor.
My heart breaks that my youngest grand daughter will never know how much he adored her.
A million things are running through my head, beautiful memories. Hearing the little gal at the CVICU tell me how much I look like him. Probably one of the best compliments ever. I do and as my mom told me far too many times "you are just like your father". So much. Too much.
I am eternally grateful that on February 11 at 1 pm, I spoke to my Daddy for what would be the last time. My sister did a Facebook messenger call, since I don't have an iPhone. He looked so frail and scared.
"I love you Daddy, I love you baby... be good"
I'll try to always be good Daddy... I'll do my best to make you proud. I promise.
Rest easy now, you've earned it. I will miss you, I will miss our banter, I will miss hearing your voice and the hugs and kiss when we'd part.
And I will love you forever...
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