Four years, one month and one day after my Mom passed away, my Dad followed her. He never stopped missing her and gave up his will to live when we lost her. I think for him his cancer diagnosis was almost a relief because he realized it wouldn't be long before he saw her again. My Dad and I had a complicated relationship to say the least. As a kid I really disliked him as an adult I learned to accept him for the way he was and eventually totally loved him. His final moments are something I will never forget and I keep going over them in my head. Should I have stayed right next to him, was it wrong I was sitting away from him watching tv? He was sleeping finally after almost three days so I didn't think he would have passed so fast. My father had a lot of fear those last couple of days. I am sure anyone who is facing death would be fearful of the unknown. The thing that gives me solace is knowing my mom was waiting for him. He told me he could hear her calling for him to come now. He asked me if it was mean for him to want to go with her instead of stay with us and I assured him it wasn't. A joker to the end, as I sat next to him crying, he gave me a hug and told me he loved me then he proceeded to grab my nose and pretend like his thumb was my nose between his fingers. A little after that when my brother arrived, he was sitting in his bed making faces at me. That was my dad, always getting someone to laugh, the perpetual clown. I will miss him more than I thought possible. Where my days were filled with thoughts of him or being with him, there is now an empty void.
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