My days are plagued with itchy skin and pacing. It's been one week and a half a day and I still don't really know what to do with myself.
I want my dad to help me through this. Not in spirit, I want him to be physically here. I've crammed a tattoo (see characature above), a puppy (see side) and a new workout routine into the week hoping to find some comfort, but there is none. I have an itchy arm (along with my basic uncomfort), a puppy who eats Evelyn's dress up shoes and sometimes "excretes" in the house/another soul to take care of, and am still fat.
I've tried (well, sort of) to go to work. That didn't work either...My staff has become so knowledgeable and responsible that I was left trying to figure out PR & Marketing stuff...Not good right now.
My DAD was the only person in my life I rarely fought with. Even through dissappointment that he had at times with me, he never closed me out, there was always advise to follow. I walk on eggshells with much (not all, but many) of the rest of my family that I'm left feeling really rejected. EDIT: My brother has some "closeness" issues...I shouldn't make all the rest of the family wonder who I'm talking about. I wish that I was closer with my mom, but judgement usually gets in the way. But, I suppose that's what happens when you put all of your eggs in one basket-my dad's. I never imagined I would be left alone. Yes, I have friends and thanks to them for putting up with me and being my friend, but where am I without my Dad, my business partner, advisor, BEST FRIEND? Where am I? (Retorical, no need to answer).
I miss him more than my heart can ever express. Day 8 of no talking. Where is my daddy?
I'm not sure what to say. I feel like I should right a blog, but don't feel like there's much of a point now since Dad's gone.
I guess the most important thing to let you all know is that we are all hanging in there. I know so many people have offered help, want to do something to help or just want to make sure I'm okay, and I appreciate that. I really do. But I have no idea what could help me right this second. Nothing can replace the gaping hole I have in my heart, in my life right now. I can't even call my Dad. No matter how far away he's been in the past, we've never gone more than a day or two without talking. So, best I can do is try to rest my exhausted head on my couch. Please don't take it personally if I don't: A) Answer my phone, including text messages, B) Respond to your emails, or C) Want you to come over.
I'm having a hard time trying to talk to people. I know most have a hard time figuring out what to say to me, but "How are you?" will most likely net you an explosion. I'm terrible! I'm sure it will get easier, but right now, I'm just not doing so well.
Wilmont Hollis Chandler (Wil) passed away today after a heroic battle with cancer in his own home surrounded by family and friends. A beloved husband, father, grandfather, brother, friend and pillar of this community, he will be sorely missed by all.
Again, for my benefit, please listen to the song to the right while reading this blog....It means a lot to me...
Dad is pretty incoherent at this point, telling Anne and I that we need to "clean up all of the splotches on the floor" and that the way for me to reconcile with Columbia Gas would be to "take a picture of the biggest group of birds I can find on the beach and then show THAT to them." He's often agitated, saying that Anne's being mean to him by not "letting" him get up (an impossibility with only one person, let alone extremely difficult with two or more). It's hard. Most of his "words" are gibberish, me leaning in to try to make sense of the moans and blah....This is shit. This is ridiculous.
Dad's too big to move entirely and so he's now been forcefully bedridden, with a condom catheter and a diaper on. THIS is not my dad. BUT, he still smiles. I thought for a long time that his smile would be with me forever, and now I KNOW it will...The little bits of smile that we get now-a-days are so intense and perfect. GOD! What are we going to do without that smile???
I'm scared because my dad's dying. He may not (most likely) last even through this week, but I am somewhat comforted (at least for the time being) that I will forever see that smile in my head, in my dreams, in my heart.
Please listen to the song on the side while reading this...
I'm writing this blog from afar (afar being only a block away from Dad, but it feels like cross country right now). The information I post today is information gathered from sources closer to Pop right now than I can be.
Dad has had a good couple of days, I'll reiterate a little and add some new. He's been on the porch enjoying the couple of nice days thanks to Michael and others. His appetite is back and he's actually had a couple of drinks, and by drinks, I mean "drinks-drinks" requesting a beer when his friend was over yesterday and a scotch the day before :) Not necessarily a good combo with the Morphine, but fun for Dad none the less!
From all accounts, Dad seems to be a bit more confused today. He apparently goes between speaking gibberish with a couple of sensical phrases here and there. I'm worried that we're getting closer to "the end." Most of the literature I've read speaks of a "bounce back": a whim of energy and lucidity that is the peak before the major downhill. But, I don't know. That's the main problem. We just don't know.
The other day I closed myself in the bedroom with Dad after Josh & I having a good visit, talking about how the two of us would carry on without Pop. I explained to Dad that we worked out how to take care of all of the rentals, the store and ourselves. I reassured him that we were going to ban together. That we would take care of everything: TOGETHER. That he wouldn't have to worry about either of us; we would worry about each other and help Anne together. I think that was a big relief for him. And I'm happy/relieved that it may have given him comfort, but am worried that I've sent him into this downward spiral...Maybe I made him come closer to "the end."
We continue to deal with sewer issues and flu symptoms from the baby girl here at 145, so I'm not quite as involved as I feel I should be. I want my Daddy. I can and will deal with the house stuff, business stuff, etc. by myself, but have a huge hole that cannot be filled by anyone, no matter how caring or helpful the person is. I want my Daddy to resolve issues, give me advice, tell me what to do, explain why I feel the way I do and how to make it better. I yearn for my Dad and his Wil-ness.
All in all...Please know that if you've contacted me in any way and I haven't gotten a chance to respond, it has nothing to do with you. I've been inundated with calls, emails and love from many and appreciate all of it, but don't always remember to respond or know what to say. Please try again.
The past week has gone by relatively quickly, so much has been going on that it's been hard to find the time to blog.
Dad is doing pretty well right now comparatively speaking...He's finally gotten some of his appetite back and has been requesting funny stuff, Egg McMuffins, fruit danishes, and even Lambic Framboise :) Lol...It's nice to see him feeling a bit better. Physically, we're still pretty much the same, which is bad. Rolling over is impossible, Showers are probably not going to happen for much longer and Dad's really tired-worn out from being transferred from bed to wheelchair even. Lots of people have been coming to visit and helping when they do. Thankfully, my stepbrother, Michael came in to town for a few days to help out from NYC. Transferring Dad has gotten so difficult that Anne and I are both having trouble moving the poor guy, so it's a huge relief to have an extra set of strong arms around.
A couple of weeks ago, Colin smelled gas outside (unfortunately, not the human kind), so we called Columbia Gas for them to come check it out. The guys showed up and figured out that the leak was right out front of our house and in order to fix it, they would need to dig up an rectangle taking up the entire right lane of E. State. When I arrived home from a day of helping take care of Dad, there was a back hoe with each tire on my rosebushes and my front lawn totally destroyed from the bucket. Trucks were parked all over the yard; it was a mess. I was in tears. REALLY!? REALLY?!!!! Ugh. So after talking to the guys working and crying, they fixed the leak, and the yard, and somehow my roses seem to have survived. Thankfully we lived through it. UNTIL yesterday when my basement flooded because the line from the washing machine was backed up (or so we thought). Turns out, after calling the plumbers on a Sunday ($$$$) it wasn't our line, it was the entire sewage line. Apparently, Columbia Gas cut through the sewage line just from our house! SERIOUSLY?! So, the City of Athens guys are here today trying to fix it and we're stuck with VERY limited water use, no dishes, laundry, showers and little flushing only. The City workers are so nice, I know they felt bad when telling me this problem was NOT going to be fixed soon.
So, that's my venting for today. I need to go attend to my little girl, who came home from her Dad's house last night with a cough and fever. Awesome.