My father passed away
My father passed away two months ago. He was 68. The last two years were difficult, and I was afraid that eventually his body might give up. He had been in the hospital a couple of times. His heart stopped, and they resuscitated him, but his brain had been without oxygen for too long. I was able to say goodbye to him in the hospital before they switched off the machines. He looked peaceful, as if he were asleep.
His own father was also an alcoholic, and my father cut ties with him. Unfortunately, I think my father suffered inside, and the love from my mother, my brother, and me was not enough to heal him. He escaped into alcohol. He was never violent or angry. He just gradually faded away. I feel a sense of relief, especially for my mother. We all suffered with him.
He was a wonderful dad. I was always his precious only daughter. No one loved me the way he did. He worked really hard to build us a home and give my brother and me everything we wanted. He showed me the world and took me to many beautiful countries.
I visited him every Sunday. I talked to him a couple of times a week. I miss him so much. I look at his photos. I play short recordings of his voice. I never thought I could hurt this much.
I'm grateful that I had him for 38 years and that he was there at my wedding. But I'm angry that he lost his fight with addiction and that I can't have him healthy and with me for a few more years. I cry almost every day and ask myself whether I've done enough to help him...