rekim01

Oh Marty I have never thought if it this way I am the youngest of my siblings and always assumed that THAT would be the reason why he chose me (actually my Mom was executor but renounced due to age and memory problems and the will stipulates that in such an event or when the last of the two passes that I am executor). I have always tried to do what is "right" and it breaks my heart that one of my brothers is so upset and I think that the biggest hurt is that he feels I am slighting my Dad somehow. There are two items of EXTREME sentimental value that my Dad had said that he would want to go to a distant cousin but my one brother says he had several conversations years ago about keeping them in the immediate family as they are the epitome of Dad. He tells me Dad agreed but it was never written down and the conversation was between the two of them (Dad also had dementia in the later years and probably didn't even remember the conversation). I have thought and thought about what to do. That is where I think "If I could talk to Dad now what would he say". I feel in my heart that if we could talk about it, and one of his sons felt that deeply about something, that he would agree. I just have no proof! I kn ow this will consume me forever...I don't know how to come to terms with it within myself. I dread my Mom's passing (for the obvious reasons but also because I think the family rift will get even worse!) Ugh...I just hate being so worried about "doing the right thing"

I guess I am just feeling really consumed in my thoughts of Dad. I know in my heart he would be proud of me etc. but without his confirmation I just keep second guessing myself. Also with some discord between siblings it makes it even more difficult. When I made a certain decision one sibling was very upset with my choice and feels that I am going against my Dad's wishes. In some ways I suppose I am, but I really thought long and hard about it. I asked myself "what would Dad do if I could have this conversation with him now". I also discussed it with my mother to a certain degree and she seemed okay with it. I have always tried to keep peace in the family but I have one sibling that makes this impossible. I know my Dad would be saddened to know we aren't getting along, but I have to do what I think is right....right?

I lost my Dad 7 months ago and I think about him now more than when he was alive. Don't get me wrong...I loved my Dad very much but I suppose when he was alive I never really "thought" of him all that much. He was just always there. Now that he isn't I find myself thinking of him every single day...many times a day. Is he proud of me? Would he think I am doing the right thing? Can he see me? Does he know how much I miss him? It seems as time passes, my thoughts of him are coming more and more often and I feel like it is almost consuming me. There has been some discord between a brother and I regarding some of Dad's possessions (I am executor) and that is also really wearing on me - I just wish I could know if Dad would approve of what I have done. I just find it so odd that as time passes I am finding things more difficult instead of easier. Has anyone else had the same sort of thing?

Thank you Linda for your kind words. The whole ordeal, in my opinion has been a nightmare! If I had realized that my Dad should have had his glasses on and dentures in I would have maybe been able to do something, but we didn't see my Dad's body until the viewing and by then I think it would have been to late anyhow. It just angers me that a man who has contributed to society for his entire life, served in WW2 for his country and has never been a burden to anyone, ends up being treated in such a manner. Every day my mother would clean his glasses and make sure that he had them on. We would put his hearing aid in and comb his hair. Many times my brother shaved my dad because it hadn't been done in a number of days (one time we came after being away for a few days and it looked like he was growing a moustache!) I distinctly remember a nurse rolling her eyes at me because I asked her to help my Dad use the bottle to pee in. I know that these people see many patients and some are not the easiest to get along with, but they still deserve respect! They are not "the patient in bed 23" they are someone's father or husband or grandfather or friend. They deserve BETTER! I know they are busy and overworked and a lot of times undervalued, but it is still no excuse for them to treat someone like "just another patient". Oh I could go on and on, and now it is too late. I don't think any of my complaining would have saved my Dad's life - he just didn't have the strength to fight anymore - but I do hope that my Dad forgives me for not standing up for him more, for not pushing harder. I vow now that my mother will NEVER go to that hospital. If she needs care I will do everything in my power to have her elsewhere...I don't want to watch the same things happen with her. Oh Dad, I miss you so, please forgive me....

Thank you all for you kind, thoughtful and insightful words of wisdom. I know grief takes time, and for the most part I think I am handling it okay. It is just the ever present feeling that I didn't do all that I could, or all that I should have to help my Dad. He was such a strong man and to see him so quickly reduced to a shell of his former self was so hard. I believe when he knew he was not coming home, he resigned himself to the fact that his life was almost over. He would not have wanted to live in a bed for the rest of his life. He would never have wanted to be a "burden" to anyone. I just wish ...oh I don't even know what I wish...other than I wish he were still here. I understand that the medical profession does the best they can, and certainly cannot know all BUT even some of the nurses etc. that I encountered while my Dad was in hospital were unbelievable! Nurses who spoke to me like I was an idiot when I asked questions, nurses who would get angry with my Dad because he didn't understand what they were asking of him, nurses who couldn't take 5 minutes with my Dad each day to put his glasses on and his hearing aid and dentures in! C'mon the man is bedridden...how the heck else was he supposed to get these things! Maybe he wouldn't be so depressed if he could see and hear! My father contracted C Difficile which is a HIGHLY contagious super bug. He was in isolation and we had to wear gowns and gloves when visiting. When I went to get his clothes from the hospital the nurses first told me he didn't have any (he did because I bought them and brought them there!) then when we figured out they were still in the room he used to occupy (now occupied by someone else)...I found them in the bottom of a closet covered in feces! Not bagged or anything - this is how C Difficile is transmitted! I also visited one day to find feces on the curtain that surrounded his bed. The nurse told me not to worry because my dad was the only one in that room. I guess we won't worry about my 84 year old mother who went to visit him everyday! I should have made a fuss...but I was so afraid my Dad would be treated even more poorly, that I didn't. His last few months he had little dignity, and I felt that the hospital staff did very little to maintain what he did have. Not all of them...some of the nurses were GREAT! But some of them were horrible. Just as a side note, the hospital told my brother when my Dad died that his personal effects would be sent to the funeral home. At the viewing, my Dad did not have his glasses on and his face looked very VERY gaunt. When I asked the funeral director if we could take my Dad's personal things from the hospital he told us he didn't get any. The hospital had not sent his glasses or his dentures or anything with him. No wonder he looked so unlike himself! I had to have my husband go pick up his things several weeks later as I could just not bring myself to go there again. Sorry...and thanks for letting me vent just a little. My anger and frustration at the whole situation clearly has not diminished. This, coupled with my guilt, is making it very hard for me to get past and accept. One day at a time!

Thank you for the responses! It truly does help to know we are not alone and that we all go through the stages of grief. I find it so hard, with this being my first "major" loss. 2 grandparents passed before I was born and the other two before I was ten so a little different than my DAD! Oh how I can hardly believe he is gone! I feel so badly that I did not truly appreciate the time we had together - how I wish I had savoured each moment more! I know there is no looking back...we just don't get a "do over" and I think it makes me appreciate all that I still have even more! Kim (ThinkSpring), thank you for commiserating with me...I am sorry for your loss. I know the feeling of trying your best and still not feeling like it was enough...it is a horrible way to feel - especially knowing we can never make it right now...it's just too late...*sigh* I continue to seek peace in my soul, but it is not there yet. Maybe someday? Kim

This is my first post and I don't even know where to begin, but feel I need to just talk about all that has happened in the last little while. My father passed away on December 11th - exactly two weeks before Christmas - he was 84 years old. He had been struggling since mid July when he had an apparent mini-stroke which left him unable to walk. His legs still worked but would not support his weight. He also suffered from slight dementia (mostly memory loss about past events etc. but never did not know his family). At first it took several weeks for him to remember he was in the hospital, and that he couldn't walk - and he needed to be restrained because he would forget and keep trying to get out of bed. At the time of his admittance to hospital, other than the stroke, my Dad was a healthy man. During the time he was in hospital his health failed miserably. He had any number of infections which he was treated with antibiotics for - then he got C Difficile. That was the final blow. He lost about 30 lbs, he was having bloody stools, had 3 blood transfusions to bring his blood count up and finally he just could not fight any more. They told us he had congestive heart failure then he died on Dec. 11. Now I am left to recount all that has happened, and can't help but feel that maybe I failed my Dad somehow. He wasn't sick when this started. I live 2 hours away and drove down every weekend to see him. I called the hospital daily to see how he was doing. I can't even go into how I feel the hospital failed him because there is just too much pain in reliving it. Now I feel like I should have done more, I should have pushed harder for better care, better diagnoses, better treatment. Maybe I should have moved him to a better hospital, but this one was close to my Mom so she could visit every day. (She had a mini stroke one week after my dad went in hospital and it decimated her short term memory, so disrupting her routine more than absolutely necessary was not an option). I just feel like I failed him and it breaks my heart. He was such a proud man, and I know that he would not have wanted to continue suffering through all of the indignities he had, but maybe if I had tried harder, he wouldn't have had to suffer. It was just so difficult trying to keep a handle on things from so far away. I guess now I am not only feeling grief at never seeing him again, or hearing his voice again, but I am feeling guilt at not doing all I could for him. How does one find peace in all of this? Outwardly I am handling everything beautifully, but inside I am being eaten up by guilt. I think about him all the time and wish I could have done more. I need to find some peace! Kim