BEWARE: Anger ahead
I'm going home in the morning. This morning actually. My, how time flies.
In a few hours I may be receiving the last hug I'll ever get from my daddy. What do you think about that? I think it's pretty stinkin' crummy!
I don't know what to believe anymore. Will this really be the last time I see my father? With God, nothing is impossible. I do not expect a miracle but try to stop me from hoping.
For over two weeks my father has been told that he only has a few days longer to live. No joke! The hospice nurse is nice and probably intelligent but I hate her and think she's stupid. She's been wrong for two weeks. Who's to say this won't go on for a few more weeks until I can maybe come down again??? So what if he can hardly swallow and has so little muscle that he has to ask someone to reposition his legs for him? So what if he almost drowns when he takes sips of water and that he is practically living on orange popsicles. Do you think that matters??? Somewhere inside that man is my daddy. And somewhere inside me is a girl that wants to pop someone on the nose.
I feel like I'm drowning in hope and sorrow. I'm swallowing it by the bucket and it all tastes like poop.
Mostly I'm just feeling crappy because by leaving before he dies I feel like I'm making a choice to never see him again. Don't tell me that's silly. I know it's silly. I'm sad not stupid.
The Good News...
I'm going home to this.
PS My friends are nice.