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Permalink Reply by monica on January 2, 2010 at 3:45pm

you lost your father 4 days before my dad passed away.. holidays for me were the hardest/i try to think of the happy memories..but uts so hard when they arent here..im jst tryying to take it one day at atime...what makes it a little easier for me is t hat i know he is in no more pain..he passed away from a major stroke..

melissa said:

I just lost my dad on 11/11/09 he was only 65 i lost my mom when she was 62 it is very difficult getting that phone call last night just before midnight.and then telling my kids in the morning that your grandfather past away,just remember the good times we all had and that he is in peace now and is with the lord.

Permalink Reply by Troy on January 5, 2010 at 12:20am

Notes from a Son who's Pop has died:

My Pa recently died of COPD. My hope was that he'd survive longer but his lungs were too damaged. He's one of three people I've known in my life that I've never heard utter a negative or mean word to anybody. The other two people l've known like that are his Brother (my uncle) and his Mom (my grandmother). If you think about it, it's quite remarkable. I've known these wonderful people my entire life and although they're gone (they've all passed on) they were all strong personalities with dynamic lives and families, they all hit the mark of being kind everyday... to everyone. I remember the day I realized this fact. It was about 7 years ago (around 2003) I thought and thought, racking my memory... I actually shook with anticipation as I contemplated this remarkable personality trait. I called my sister to compare notes. She definitely answered, "Yes. I've not heard ONE negative thing from our dad. He's the kindest most loving man I know." I added, "Pop singlehandedly and by sheer force of will held our family together during our most trying times (of our family)." That is the sort of thing that you'd expect from a gruff and stoic person. But my Dad was far from gruff... "stoic" would NOT be an accurate description in any way either.
Not too long after that, I visited my dad and told him how much I admired him, his Brother and his Mom for being like that. I figured I'd just wrap it up as a "Southern Gentile" type of people. (I loved to call him Pa, too) These are rare people. It's interesting how folks will often confuse kindness with weakness. Maybe that's my Pop's best lesson to me. You can be kind, gentle and loving without being a push-over. I often hear his marvelous advice and anecdotes echoing in my mind... "Walk with a purpose."... "Don't undersell yourself."... "Don't slam- and bang!" (doors and drawers)... "Turn the page on your life, you should take that job." Wow. I'm so fortunate to have been raised by him... (and mom too). He also taught me the fun "Dad stuff" like: how to shoot, how to make model airplanes that actually fly, how to appreciate music, how to hook up a stereo, how to make rockets out of matches...) He was fun!
The last couple of years of his life, I made a conscious effort to spend more time with him. It was very easy to do since he lived close by and I genuinely liked him as a person. We were a lot a like. I may look like my Mom, but my mind is steeped richly with his personality. We had so much fun doing volunteer work together or hanging out on the patio, just buzzing like bees, talking about all the neat stuff we liked to talk about. He could always make me laugh with his dry, understated humor. When I departed to go home after these visits I would have the warmest feelings and such a tender heart. I knew to redouble my efforts to remember those precious moments as they occurred. I felt I was on the right track... I think I'll always have wanted just a little more time with him. I was hoping, I was really hoping, but he died. I was able to say good-bye to him just before he passed on. My eyes have witnessed a scene so remarkably sad, so melancholy and so incredibly touching, personal and precious... my Mom saying her good-byes to our loving Father. Well, after all, that's my Pa... if there's a commitment, he'll keep it. ('til death did they part).

Permalink Reply by Catzrme9 on January 7, 2010 at 6:44pm

Today is my Dad's birthday- he would have been 66yrs. I called mom today to see how she was doing and she was dealing with my dad's b day as well as can be expected. Mom went to daddy's grave and she started taking down the Christmas tree as we always kept it up until his birthday so I was not surprised by this. This is also the anniversary of my grandmother's death. How awful to remember it this way. I love you dad and grandmom and miss you so as does the rest of our family. Know that you are both in our hearts and in our thoughts. Love you always,

Permalink Reply by Hugo Chikamori on January 12, 2010 at 1:44pm

I lost my father 9 days before Christmas 2009. My father had a massive stroke and heart-attack. He was out before he hit the floor. He was taken to St. Paul's Hospital in Vancouver just across Burrard Bridge from where my father lived with my mother in Kitsilano. He was unresponsive to attempts to bring him back and he was put on a ventilator until I could be contacted. They tried everything that they could, but they couldn't save him. His body was kept around by the respirator only.

I did manage to get there in enough time. I believe that my dad's spirit lingered long enough for me to say good-bye. I could see that he was pretty much gone when I got there. There was I think a little involuntary reflex when I walked in the room but other than that, nothing else. I took the time to tell the doctors who worked on him "Thank you for taking such good care of him." That was the least I could do after they tirelessly worked on him in the emergency room trying to bring him back. I'm not sure he could hear me, but I held his hand and told him "Go...don't be in pain...be at peace..." and "I love you, Dad."

On the way to the hospital it was pouring rain. On our way home the sky broke and we had some sun. And on top of it all, we saw an absolutely gorgeous rainbow. I took it to mean that my dad was saying good-bye. I have this feeling in my heart that he probably heard my last words.

RIP Yasutsugu Chikamori, March 16, 1934-December 16, 2009.

My father was a tough, taciturn man; who had made it through the Second World War supporting his family (as the eldest of 5 children) from the time that he was 6 years old when his father died. He was 11 when the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima. the light of which was visible from across the Channel over in Kyoto. He never gave up throughout his life. He believed in the words "You don't get anywhere without effort." That's how come I will never give up even when the chips are down. Not when I've got his example to follow.

He was also the one who introduced me to "mokei" (Japanese for model). Between them and a father of my friend, I ended up getting addicted to model kits. It was also my father who fostered my love of photography as well. When I was eight years old, he took me out to the Vancouver International Airport to shoot airliners coming into land at YVR (back in the days before the parallel runways, during the 70s).

I will miss him the rest of my life. I'm just glad that he's no longer in discomfort.

I miss you, Dad.



My father with two of his three grandchildren.

My online epitaph to my father: http://maniacwcamera.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-epitaph-for-my-father....
----

We buried him on December 23, 2009, the same day as my maternal grandmother died in 1979. I misread the time of the burial and ended up at the funeral home an hour and a half early. The funeral home was kind enough to allow me to keep vigil at my father's side in the chapel (in private viewing) listening to classical music (the type of music that he and I both loved) for the hour prior to interring his remains in the ground. I spent the time alone in reflection of my father's life and his inner strength. He may not have won medals or fought battles, but he was my "hero". I was able to assist the chapel designated pall-bearers in taking my father's remains from the chapel to the hearse. And I rode with my dad on his "final ride" to his eternal resting place. And I was able to do my father the honor of being one of the pall-bearers to move his casket to the lowering device designed to lower the casket to the bottom of the vault.

I am glad that I had the time with my father. And I am glad that I had my final moments with him in the chapel. It brought healing to my heart and brought closure...

Permalink Reply by Hugo Chikamori on January 12, 2010 at 2:11pm

(in continuation):

I have only cried twice: Once when I was at his side when they turned the machines off and he breathed his last; the other when I was relating to my wife just how much my father loved her (as a surrogate daughter) a day before the funeral. She is Caucasian, I am Asian and considering my father was of the Second World War generation, it was something for her to be accepted into this family and loved like one of his own.

Since the funeral, my energies have been put towards pursuing my goal of establishing a photography business (my father would have wanted that...as well as it being something I love doing). My father would have wanted me to not be postrate with grief day in and day out...and I am respecting his wishes.

But there are good days (when I can see a memory of the things that I've done with him (go out to places that we both liked to go out to, listen to a piece of music that we both liked (classical music), or eat something that we both enjoyed) without shedding a silent tear) and there are bad days when I walk through the entire day numb from head to toe trying my best not to feel anything.

It seems like a part of his inner strength transferred to me when he passed away because I feel as though "nothing can bother me" because literal everyday complaints about the weather, finances, etc etc. weigh nothing against the loss of a loved one. I take every day one day at a time now instead of worrying about everything in the future. And I think that was my father's gift to me.

I love him, and I will miss him with the entirety of my heart for the rest of my life.

Permalink Reply by Kayepeanyc on January 13, 2010 at 10:22am

I lost my dad on November 18, 2009. He was vibrant, active, and, we thought, healthy. He swam laps at the local gym 2x a week. I feel so cheated! He was 86 and I feel like he was taken too soon. He didn't know he had a dangerously large aneurysm and only 20% heart function; he only knew he was on his way to get my mother from the hospital where she'd been for a week and was slated to go to a rehab facility. I was supposed to meet him there. Instead, I got a call from my cousin saying that my father had fallen and was in the emergency room at a different hospital. Three weeks and several surgeries later, he was dead.

My father was a wonderful man. When I was growing up he was stern and unyielding, but he transformed himself when he was in his 60s(!) and became the generous, pragmatic, funny guy who I loved to talk to--a homespun philosopher. After I lost my job and injured myself and couldn't work, my dad would show up at my door with a thousand dollars in cash, saying, "I've got a little extra--what else is it for?"

My dad and I went to the bank, to Home Depot, and he would call me and tell me when shrimp was on sale at Fairway--we both loved shrimp! We were the morning people in the family, unlike my mother and sister, and I knew if I called him at 7 he'd be up, having already been to the store to get the paper.

I'm sure my dad wondered at times how he'd gotten the kids he had--daughters (in a large family where his brothers had mostly sons), artistic, dramatic, quirky--all the things he wasn't. But he accepted me and loved me for who I am. I'm grateful that I got to have so much time with him. And touched that he trusted me to make difficult medical decisions when he was unable to do it himself.

I miss him terribly. I wish he could see me graduate next week from the small business course I started in September and managed to hang onto throughout his and my mom's (and my mom's cat's) illnesses. He would be so proud! And not at all surprised. I will honor him by living a full life.

Permalink Reply by barbara on January 30, 2010 at 9:10am

Its been a little over a year since i lost my daddy,although i know it was time for him to go,and his suffering is now over, I still can cry every day,even now trying to write this. The thing is, I (like others i am sure) adored my daddy,i was a daddys girl,an I wasnt finished needing him.!!

It was a terrible family time,that I NEVER expected. Tore the entire family apart from opinions,faith,greed,my daddys wishes were not honoured
and much,much more. it only adds to the grief.

I have tried to deal with this myself,saw a counselor,said i was normal, my grief reaction was normal, BUT how do you live with it??? It has changed who I am, how I interact with others,taken the joy from my life

and i am just going thru the motions, I dont seem to care much about anything anymore,because it doesnt matter. Im angry that daddy will be forgotten,that people think I should just forget all the treachery and theft,the suffering my dad went thru, and "just move on". "just let it go".
How do you do that?? I KNOW that God will eventually judge those envolved and will handle it, but how do you get over the enormous grief of it all?

Are there others out there dealing with this?? I have VERY little family left and they dont want to hear it and i know those at work are tired of my grief,what do you do?

Permalink Reply by sharon on February 1, 2010 at 1:03am

I lost my dad Jan 29,2010 I was there when he finally passed at 400 am at his home i was with my mom who he would have been married to 57 years on Feb 21, 2010 and it hurts but it almost seems like he is just gone for a little and will be back i guess because we have not buried him yet i dont but on wed its going to kill me i think

Permalink Reply by Lori Farrar on February 1, 2010 at 9:35am

My dad suffered through a coma for 7 years, in a hospital and a nursing home. He never left the nursing home alive. That is where he died, and its a hard reality to live through. My dad died way back in 1993, and its hard to forget that day. He died just before Christmas. Its a hard way to celebrate Christmas, and New Years. He suffered a car accident, before going into coma. Then he suffered my ex-husband beating him on and around the head. It took the VA about 3 to 4 years to bury him. He was in WWII, but they left his physical body in a freezer for almost 4 years. I was shocked.

Permalink Reply by Caitiesnanny on February 1, 2010 at 9:35pm

richard mom said:

my daddy was a hard man,but i loved him very much.he drink alot almost till the end.i tried to be invisible when he did this. he never told me i did anything he approved of.his biggest dream his whole life was to have a son .it never came true.my frist child was a boy i named him richard after my daddy.he didn't come to the hosiptal to see us,but when he was two weeks old he and my mother came and asked for him to go home with them to spent the night.my daddy passed away april 24 1999.i had to remind myself all the time no matter how long he lived he would of always been the same to me.well on dec.3 2008 my 35 yr.old son died.so even thou things never changed for me and my dad.you now have with you the only thing that i did right for you.so happy fathers day and know i miss you both.

Permalink Reply by Caitiesnanny on February 1, 2010 at 9:49pm

Sorry. I don't know what I'm doing here but I am in the same boat with you. I can't say honestly that my Dad and I had this wonderful relationship and that he was such a sweet man. In truth, he was difficult to be around much of the time. He was someone who demanded attention just because he was old and ill and I tried so many times to make him understand that you reap what you sow. I was pretty much the only one who visited him frequently, took him to his doctor appointments, made all of his arrangements for transportation etc. etc. I did this out of honor and respect and love. Even though he was very sick for quite some time he died suddenly, eating dinner and taking a nap in his chair. Now I find myself wondering if I did enough for him. We fought often due to his stubborness but I always made sure he had what he needed. He left so many things unsaid, not only with me but with my sister and his entire family. He was extremely judgemental and could be very hard hearted, but I loved him. I miss him. He loved me the only way he knew how and as much as he was capable of. Intellectually I understand this, emotionally I'm not so sure if I ever will. His loss makes me want to make everyday count with the rest of my family including my husband, my sons and their wives my beautiful granddaughter, hopefully future grandchildren, and my extended family and friends. He could have had all of this if he had just opened his heart. Now I am dealing with probating his estate and I can tell you that what was left to us almost feels dirty. I would have rather had him, his love and his understanding. Sadly I am almost jealous when I read these other posts where people explain how their fathers were such sweet souls, wonderful individuals, my dad loved me too, just not enough.

Caitiesnanny said:

richard mom said:

my daddy was a hard man,but i loved him very much.he drink alot almost till the end.i tried to be invisible when he did this. he never told me i did anything he approved of.his biggest dream his whole life was to have a son .it never came true.my frist child was a boy i named him richard after my daddy.he didn't come to the hosiptal to see us,but when he was two weeks old he and my mother came and asked for him to go home with them to spent the night.my daddy passed away april 24 1999.i had to remind myself all the time no matter how long he lived he would of always been the same to me.well on dec.3 2008 my 35 yr.old son died.so even thou things never changed for me and my dad.you now have with you the only thing that i did right for you.so happy fathers day and know i miss you both.

Permalink Reply by Amy M. Jacobsen on February 2, 2010 at 4:18pm

Marc Allen Sager February 14, 1959---October 3, 2009 ( Step father)My real father left when I was about 2 yrs old, My mom remarried a man named Marc Sager, ,We had our ups and downs that familys have with step-parents, but we always loved each other, in 2006 my father ( stepfather) got into a very bad car accident, and because of that he had some health issues, he's stomach looked like he was 9months pregnant, he had COPD, he wouls end up in the hospital at a drop of a hat, we was on full oxygen, but still smoked, so in 2007, I moved him down from Michgan to Florida, so I could look after him, and make sure he got everything he needed, wheather it was taking him to the Dr, or to the grocery store, I would do it, Sept 2009 was my 10 yr wedding Ann, so me and my husband went away, the night we got home I developed a nasty cold, and I really wanted to visit my dad, to see how he was doing and to tell him much fun we had while we were gone, but I was just to sick, I didn't stop he's house, because the time I got off work I was so tired, and If I would of gone to his house, he could of got sick from me, my family planned a weekend at Clearwater Beach Oct 2-4th, we went as planned, First night, everything was great and by Sat afternoon( October 3rd ,2009) I received a call saying that my dad died in his sleep, that his roomates checked on him, and talked with him before bed, but when the got up in the morning he was sitting in the same spot as he was when they last talked to him, I was in shock, I was really hopeing he was just asleep, So when I got there, I had my mother go check and sure enough he was gone, Now my father ( stepfather) never took care of himself, and I wonder with all the health problems that is just his time, Its been VERY hard on me, somenights I can't even sleep, I think I really need to go seek some grief help..
Legally, he was my step father, in my mind he was my REAL Father, only a piece of paper changes that.. We love you dad and misses everyday

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