A 37 year old daughter and a 59 year old father should not have to swap ICU spouse stories. I hate this. I hate this, I hate this. I HATE THIS. We are both too young and I want to scream…okay I get it. Life is precious. Live each moment like it is your last and all those things that death or near death experiences remind us of.
It isn’t lost on me. I am still recovering from my last reminder. Monday when I found out I kept to myself. I didn’t really reach out because honestly my friends seem quite sick of me reaching out. I am still reaching out from the last round of life is precious and feeling like I have reached my quota.
Unanswered texts and no more, “how are yous?” That is where I am at. On Monday I felt devastated for my dad and alone. No one can help. No one would even believe it.
I wonder if the message isn’t bigger. Family is important. You need each other. Yea, I got that too. I had to listen to my dad today and hear heartache and pain in his voice. Not just today but yesterday and I have to tell him, “I know” and tell him I hear him and understand.
But if I am being honest it is too soon. I tried to give comfort and the words just won’t come. I had hope, I had a chance at a new beginning. But I said, “I know Dad, but…but…I don’t even have the words. It is so hard to be in there and see that. No one should have too see the person they love like that. No one, it is…I just can’t.”
Out of desperation, I pray and hope it gets better. It has to because I need it too. But no one asked me. It isn’t about me again. But I am tired of hurting. I am tired of my family hurting.
Love has to win. Love always wins. I just have to believe it. I do.