Returning to ENA after the sudden death of my father

Hello all,

I used to post a lot here last summer, after a breakup initiated by my boyfriend of 1.5 years. It was a difficult time, and you were all wonderful in your support and advice.

Now I come to you with a completely different brand of heartbreak. My father passed away on June 29th, at the age of 76. He was physically active and mentally sharp as ever. On the Saturday before Father's Day, he and my mother were out for lunch. He suddenly said he didn't feel well, and wanted to go to the hospital. They did, with *him* driving, if you can believe that. As soon as they walked into the ER lobby, he collapsed. A stroke, a seizure?? No one knew what was going on. My mother called me, frantic. All this was happening in northern CA, 600 miles south of me, the only child. I threw some stuff and my dog in the car and got down there as fast as I could.

CT and MRI scans revealed not one, not two, but THREE tumors in his brain. Glioblastoma multiforme. I work in the medical field and knew that immediately for what it was: a death sentence. They did surgery and removed as much tumor as they safely could. With aggressive chemo and radiation, my father might have had a year. But it was not to be. He rallied briefly, and we had a few days where we could talk to him. He was his usual brilliant, funny self. Teasing the nurses, flirting with my mom, explaining the entire plot and history of Casablanca to me as we watched it one afternoon, because I'd never seen it before.

Then he slipped away into progressive multiple organ failure. Per his wishes the machines were turned off, and he was gone. The entire horrible turn of events from that day at lunch, to his death, was only 13 days. He never left the hospital. Never came home again.

I think my mom and I are both in shock. It seems like a bad dream. For her, he's been the center of her life since they were 16... more than 60 years. For me, I've lost a man I literally don't know life without. I spent a month in California helping her cope with things. I had no idea there was so much WORK to do when someone dies. We hardly had time to catch our breaths, much less attempt to grieve. I found I couldn't cry much while I was with her. And I learned that hugs are not always reciprocal. They were always me holding her, me comforting her, me giving her strength. There wasn't really any of that coming back to me from her. Not because she was withholding it, but I think she just didn't have it to give. So I didn't have a safe place to really fall apart.

I returned home on Saturday. On Sunday I saw my ex... the one who brought me here originally. Despite all the horror stories and advice against doing such, we (after a period of no contact that I initiated) are friends. Best friends, really. Break up aside, he still knows me better than anyone else. He is still my safe place, and he held me while I finally wept and wailed and got some of the pain out. I'm very thankful for his support and friendship.

I feel guilty for being glad to be back to my own life. I feel worried about my mom. I feel strange and adrift knowing that my dad is gone. I feel so many things. And at the same time, I feel numb.

Thanks for listening. Any advice or input is always appreciated.

I am so very sorry. Hugs.

This isn't comparable at all, I realize, but it's as much as I can relate to a tragedy like this.

When my parents dog was killed, I didn't feel anything for about 3 weeks. Nothing. No tears, no sadness. Just moving on with life. Which made me feel guilty. But it hit me after a few weeks.

I tell this story because whatever you're feeling is exactly normal and is exactly what your brain needs right now. Try and skip the guilt and do whatever you feel you need in each moment. It's very strong of you to be so supportive of your mother. I'm so sorry for your loss. Hugs.

OP, I am so sorry for your loss.

I can relate as my eldest sister passed away, also due to Glioblastoma multiforme (very aggressive) brain cancer. It was all very very sudden, very unexpected. She went to hospital, was there for 2 months and she never came back. It was horrendous and shocking and still to this day, for me, it is totally surreal. We were all completely numb and couldn't (still can't) comprehend at all what happened.

I have no words of comfort - all I can say is, it takes time. I am so sorry. (((Hugs)))

This isn't comparable at all, I realize, but it's as much as I can relate to a tragedy like this.

 

When my parents dog was killed, I didn't feel anything for about 3 weeks. Nothing. No tears, no sadness. Just moving on with life. Which made me feel guilty. But it hit me after a few weeks.

 

I tell this story because whatever you're feeling is exactly normal and is exactly what your brain needs right now. Try and skip the guilt and do whatever you feel you need in each moment. It's very strong of you to be so supportive of your mother. I'm so sorry for your loss. Hugs.

 

Thanks, MLD. You've always been so kind and supportive of me. I'm happy to see you. I'm trying to not judge myself too harshly... and to just let each day be each day, in whatever form that ends up taking. Some days are definitely harder than others.

 

Thanks for the hugs. Sending some back your way. ♥

OP, I am so sorry for your loss.

 

I can relate as my eldest sister passed away, also due to Glioblastoma multiforme (very aggressive) brain cancer. It was all very very sudden, very unexpected. She went to hospital, was there for 2 months and she never came back. It was horrendous and shocking and still to this day, for me, it is totally surreal. We were all completely numb and couldn't (still can't) comprehend at all what happened.

 

I have no words of comfort - all I can say is, it takes time. I am so sorry. (((Hugs)))

Thank you for the hugs and the kind words. I'm so sorry that you went through this as well. The speed of it was just shocking....but I have a friend who lost one parent this way (to an aggressive, fast cancer), and one to a slower, drawn out type of cancer. With the chemo, the radiation, the slow, agonizing fade of life... He assures me that fast is better, especially because my dad didn't really suffer. I hope your sister didn't either. Hugs to you for your loss. ♥