I have read many posts and they have touched my heart. I have been grieving for the loss of my dad David Odman, who died at 59 on 01/21/09. I can remember the phone call the night of the 20th, with my step mom Dianne screaming into the phone at 2:00 am saying dad is in ICU, he just had a major cerbrovascular accident. Get to the hosptial now. I just remember blindly running through the house, getting dressed, getting my kids up, making sure my dog went potty. I can remember thinking I was so glad I had invited my estranged (we don't along great) kid brother down for the weekend and being thankful that he was there. He was flipping out and my daughter Alexis kinda laughed at him nervously as she has nervous laughter when she is under stress. He lunged at her and I had to keep it together to get between them, he being 33 and me being 34, I told him I will not take him to the hospital unless he calms down, that we are all under stress, including Alexis who cannot having nervous laughter, that is just her. He cussed the whole way as I drove to the hospital. I parked as close as I could to the entry way, and started running and again my brother was cussing at me at my kids, saying we are leaving him and he would never forgive us. He had charcot marie tooth disease and I was not running away from him to leave him but to get a wheelchair to take him to my dad since he could not walk well. He has always, my brother, been a drama queen of emotions. I just told my kids to ignore him, and I told David to knock it off, that I was getting him a wheelchair. When David Jr, my very unlikable brother at the time sat down, he started balling, he said I thought you were leaving me. I said no way, we are in this together now shut up, we may have little time and hold on to the chair, we are running. I ran full speed through the hospital to the ICU room and met my mom and my other younger brother Daymon there with my Grandma Vickey, my step (but real mom because she has always been there for me mom). My dad Dave lay there on a breathing machine. Now, my heart sank in my chest because I left that room last night telling him I loved him and would see him tomorrow. Now, I will never see him. His doctor told us they could take him into surgery but he could die in surgery or be a vegetable, and that they did CT scans and MRI of the brain and see no function. This meant decision making time. I didn't want to decide, none of us did. We decided not to do surgery so we could keep him on life support so other family members could come and say good bye when we decided to remove him from support. I felt numb, knocked off my feet, I wanted to hear his voice, have a car ride with him as he was always my cockpit pal on road trips. I saw this strong man at his weakest laying there not knowing if what we were doing was best or not for him. I did not want him to suffer, but I knew we would suffer without him. I rarely left the room, except to allow others that loved him, my brother Sean drove down after the birth of his daughter Justice at 1:00 am, 1 hour before his stroke, he drove down to be with dad the next day to say his goodbyes, then David Jr. got to say good bye, Daymon, me, Grandma then mom and Aunt Vernelli, we also got Aund Diane dads sister on the phone to say good bye and uncle Bob dads brother. When I said good bye I didnt want to. I asked him to fight, that I could not live without him. But if it was to be then it would be and I would have to deal eventually with it. I hugged him so tight and smelled him. I miss his smell the most today and his laugh. He used to call me several times a day to say he loved me and missed me. I will always miss that. My children got to say goodbye and Devin stayed with me like I did with my dad when his dad died and we removed the breathing tube and life support. He died soon afterward. I was devastated, in a fog, missed 9 days of work but I really should have taken more time off, because I don't think I have ever recovered. I have been on several depression medications and tried counseling, will be going back soon. I miss him and feel the same pain I did fresh when he died. I am angry that we didnt try to help him more when he was alive with his illnesses and how selfish I think we were with a lot of things. At the service for him I spoke but got choked up and I said my dad was my hero, that he cared for us and raised us with Diane his wife and loved us, provided for us and was our cheering section when we did good things in our life and diciplined in love as he should have. That he was struck at 41 with Schizophrenia, and suffered greatly from that but eventually became a sweet lovable man, who loved his children so much and gave greatly to others and some actually took advantage of him for his illness. I will never forget my dad and hope that I can start learning to cope with is loss and paying his giving spirit forward to other people in need.