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verushka70By last Sunday, everyone who had come to see my stepdad after he came home from in-patient hospice, and everyone who'd come for my younger sister's baby shower, had gone. Monday he was still talking to us. Tuesday morning he could barely walk; we think he'd had a stroke over night. He grew agitated and his pain wasn't being helped by the usual dose of morphine so the hospice nurse said to double the dose. By Wednesday night he was no longer really conscious.
Last night, Thursday night at 5:50pm I told him I had to leave for work and that he shouldn't worry about my mom, that we would take care of her and make sure that she was okay. And I told him not to wait for her, that she would meet him there.
When I was walking into the elevator in the parking garage 55 minutes later, my mother called my cell phone to tell me he was gone.
They sent me home from work because I couldn't keep my shit together. I was probably a liability issue at that point.
I wish he'd been my real father.
Last night, Thursday night at 5:50pm I told him I had to leave for work and that he shouldn't worry about my mom, that we would take care of her and make sure that she was okay. And I told him not to wait for her, that she would meet him there.
When I was walking into the elevator in the parking garage 55 minutes later, my mother called my cell phone to tell me he was gone.
They sent me home from work because I couldn't keep my shit together. I was probably a liability issue at that point.
I wish he'd been my real father.