Dad

Thinking about my dad more and more as the days come up. It will be two years on April 14. Although he began his year in the hospital, he remained in ICU for 4 months. I trhink of him every day and it is getting easier. I think back to where the pain was more intense and having to take Xanax to help the anxiety. You hear people say, "remember the good times". That was ok, I 'm fine remembering the good times, but it's remembering the last day I saw him and how he died. That is what kills me inside. The vision of him gasping for air, his face, his last breath, the machine as it starts that wretched constant beep. That's the moment in time that kills me inside. That is when I feel the most guilt. His mind was made up, he was consious about his decision, however should we have waited until the evening instead of saying goodbye so early? I didn't stop the Drs. in time, it was too late, the morphine had strarted and the machine was off. I miss you Dad so much and I can't help but wonder if I did anything wrong. I thank God that you were able to make the decision on your own. March on brave soldier into the night. The battle is over there's no need to longer fight. I feel you sometimes when I sleep. I feel your hand carressing my head as I sleep.