It seems like just yesterday I had to break the news to my dad that he was going to be a grandpa. Like any father of a teenage girl, he was disappointed at first, but gradually grew comfortable and even excited about being a grandpa!
This being his first grandchild, he would tell me about how he had dreams of him and my baby playing in the yard together, taking walks along the river side, and teaching him everything from riding a bike to swimming, just as my brother and I were taught.
Naturally, being a teenage mom, the father of the baby did leave us. But my dad was right there to step up and help me out in every possible way he could. He gave me a place to stay (I was living on my own for a long time) kept me fed (my job paid very little, just enough to cover the gas to get there, basically!) and showed me the love and support I so desperately needed.
It was May 17th, 2010. My grandma was in town to help take care of my dad. Dad had been struck with multiple illnesses such as diaphragmatic hernia, pulmonary edema, systematic scleraderma, and it just seemed that he wasn't getting better. He was in and out of the ER and ICU every other week. Then sent out of state for a heart transplant that the hospital deemed him "too healthy to receive"- how wrong they were...
It was a typical Monday morning. I called my dad to tell him I was going to come over and hang out for a bit. He said "Okay sounds good!" and my very last words to him were "Alright, I'll see ya later then!"
Morning sickness fell in so I laid down for a little while. I was woken up by my grandma calling me saying "The ambulance is here, they're taking your dad down to the hospital now. I'll call (step mom) and have her pick me up, and we'll meet you down there". Having been down this road so many times, I figured it would be just another hospital run. He would get hooked up to IVs, given the meds he needed to drain his lungs of the fluids, spend a night or two to be observed, and come home.
I started to get out of bed. Made some lunch, went to get dressed, and my phone started ringing. It was my dad on the caller ID. "Strange" I thought. "He shouldn't be calling me right now"
It was my step mom
"Your dad has passed away"
I froze. Silence.
I hung up and called my little brother to tell him.
He kept yelling at me "What are you calling for? Hello? Hello?!"
"Dad passed away...."
He freaked out.
Those last words I told him? "I'll see ya later!"
That last time I saw him, he was lifeless in a hospital bed.
That horrible day plays in my head like a broken record.
And any day now, I'll be bringing my own new life in to this world.
I wish my dad was here to see it.