On October 20, 2009 at approximately 2:00 a.m. my father in law passed away. No glory- no peace- no relief-. He is gone and I am so profoundly sad I cannot explain it. We have gone through the arrangements, the viewing, the funeral, the burial and I have no closure. I have nothing but sadness. And now it seems like I am going through the denial everyone else was going through when he was sick. I just simply cannot believe it or rather I cannot accept it. I am going to miss him so fucken much and I cannot seem to picture anything- any event, any occasion without him. It sickens me to my very core. I hate that he is gone and I want to scream out for him to come back- to please just come back! I have never in my life lost some so close to me and even though I loved my uncle silly- we were not close in that sense- not since I was younger- same with my papa- and even my friend Wendie- I loved her but it just wasn't the same. This sucks so badly and I cannot do a thing about it- I cannot fix this. I have never seen CC like this before- (obviously) he is so broken hearted and sad.. he will look at me and just say "ohhhhh Jen" and nothing else needs to be said- I know what he means, how he feels- he is broken... and sad and scared and he doesn't know how he is ever going to feel better- he too cannot believe it- he too feels helpless. He just wants his daddy back- so do I ...so do we all... that's all I want to say right now-

He knows it's over- everyone knows- The dr's initially gave him less than a month(this was a couple of days ago) but now they are saying its even less- maybe a week-maybe a few days. When they found out- they decided they wouldn't tell him- why would they? But the following morning they came in- he told them- he had asked- so we know he must have felt it- in his heart he knew the cancer was out of control, that the tumours were getting bigger and popping out everywhere- he knew- he must have known it was over- he had lost this fight - that is why he asked..We don't think he knows how long he has.. but its better that way I think. So it was decided that I needed to go- I reluctantly agreed- I know I couldn't hide behind the children forever as much as I wanted to...

The entire way to the hospital I could have very easily thrown up. I did not eat a thing all day- and slowly sipped on my coffee with he drove-. I didn't want to go- I didn't want to be here - it didn't matter that it was dad- it could have been anyone- this is something I cannot bare- I cannot face it- my legs feel weak the second I enter a hospital- my mouth dry, I shake- hospitals are for dying- and bad news...

When we get there - (there meaning the palliative care unit) it is eerily quiet- serene almost I guess you would say- there are already people there and we sit in the waiting room but soon enough his mother comes out and tells me to go in. When I see him there I am obviously shocked. My legs almost buckle from under me. Its only been a little over 2 weeks since I saw him and he has aged 30 years it looks like. He looks just as bad as had pictured it- just like the other people I had seen in the documentary I watched about people dying of cancer.. how quickly it changed him-

His breathing is loud and intermittent and laboured. He looks like he is sleeping. She says that most of the time this is how he is- out of it . He hellucintaes and talks jibberish- I was warned before hand.. Mom says to him "Look, look your daughter is here to see you" and he immediately opens his eyes and smiles and says "Oh God.." then as he is reaching out to me says "Come here" I hug him and I felt his arms shaking as he tried to hug me. He said "I'm glad to see you" I said "I am so glad to see you too" I ask him if he is tired he says yes.. I say "Sleep then, you just sleep" and I am rubbing his swollen hand... his mother and he go out of the room and leave me with him- at which point I should have whispered to him- I should have said all the things I wanted to say like "I love you- please.. please don't go- please wake up and tell everyone you will be fine. Please don't leave me here with them- you are the only one who gets me- we're the same... please please don't die...." I should have thanked him then- I should have told him I was thankful to him for being the dad I never had- I should have told him that every night I wished it was my dad that was dying instead of him - I should have told him my babies would never be the same without him and that I needed him to stay because their father is stupid and doesn't deserve them- I should have asked him to please hold on- to please get better so he could be the father I know CC can never be to them... I should have said so much.. but I didn't- I stood there scared out of my fucken skull- wondering why everyone left me alone with him- wondering if that last breath he took would be his last- and why was there such a pause before the next breath... I stood there scared out of my fucken mind- like a child almost- scared that the cancer inside of him was going to jump out of his mouth and jump into me... I just wanted to run... I wanted to run out of there so fucken fast....


They come back in the room and CC is distraught. He is crying and holding his fathers' hand. Sometimes he gets up and kisses his forehead. I know he wants to scream out too- begging him to be ok now - I know none of this seems real to him. I know he feels helpless- I almost feel a sense of jealousy as I watch him tending to his father. I remember driving myself to the hospital and being wheeled down to surgeries alone- I remember going to every single dr's appointments by myself- hearing horrible news and having no one there to comfort me. I remember not being able to walk upright or get out of bed by myself- I remember cleaning my own dressings and injecting myself with medications because he wouldn't.. and yes it is selfish and appalling that these thoughts even enter my mind- but they did as I watched him wipe his fathers mouth and kiss him gingerly- those thoughts actually entered my mind- why wouldn't you ever comfort me - or hold me or look after me..?? I am selfish and stupid.. and I hated myself the second they entered my head but I thought them ....I did- and I don't know why..

We all took turns going in and out of the room- just watching him mostly as he slept. When I first went back into the waiting area his mother was telling everyone about how he reached out for me and how he "perked up" when he saw me. She says "He has never done that for anyone! No one! Not his sisters or his son or me! " I felt special- I felt loved- and I know that this "Story" will be told a million times now-to everyone and anyone- I know she will tell this story again and and again- that I was the only one that he responded to like that- that means something... that was my gift from him... and I will take it..

He breathing was so loud and he was struggling and I don't know how much of anything he heard or knew.. but I felt better in a weird way when we left because I know he knew I was there. Before we left I kissed him three or four times on the cheek and said "Goodnight Papa Daddy, I love you"....I know he heard me- I know he did.


I haven't been sleeping. A couple of hours here and there for the past few weeks really, but mostly this past one. It seemed like every time I closed my eyes I would dream of him- not dying necessarily- but it would wake me every time and then I wouldn't want to go back to sleep- I used to stay up when I was younger as long as I could because I couldn't bare to sleep- I know I wrote a poem about it or two - I should look for it- sleeping means dreaming. and I hate to dream.. your dreams is where you have to face everything you don't want to which is why dad kept popping into mine. Last night I slept for almost 5 hours straight- and I didn't dream.. I think seeing him (as much as I didn't want to see him like that) helped me - put me at peace.. as much as I can be.

So now it is a waiting game.. wait for the phone to ring and hope he isn't alone- or in pain.. maybe just hope he goes to sleep.

Things are bad- again,or shall I say- still. CC seems to now be in the denial haze. Thinking maybe this is just how it is when people are going through chemo. Maybe he'll bounce back..no- there is no bouncing back from this. I have now become the voice of reason- the rational one who is trying, with grace, to tell him this is the end- there will be no bringing him home. He has changed so much - obviously his physical appearance is ghastly, but mentally some days he isn't there- one minute he is scared, the next quiet, the next seeing things- its terrible. Even if -and I say this without truly believing it is possible, but even if he was to bounce back from this- he would never be the same- the person he was is no longer there when you look in his eyes- that sense of humour is gone- its just empty now. I haven't yet seen him- I told CC about that documentary I have watched a few time about cancer patients dying and I described the look they have and that is the look his dad has now- he says he is skin and bones- looks like he's been in a concentration camp- its eating him alive. I do feel sorry for CC- I see that desperation in his eyes I think these last few days he has realized that his dad isn't going to be around much longer. I don't know if he can bare it- his father is the only person I have ever seen him cry over. He never cried when we lost all the babies- he never cried when our babies were born or when he first saw them on the ultrasound- he never cried when we almost lost pickle- On our wedding day when he said his speech- he never cried at the joy of our union- or when he talked about me- he cried when he mentioned his parents- when he thanked his dad for everything. He cried when they found out it was lung cancer- and he has cried almost every single time he talks about him-I wish I could fix it all- I wish I could make all of this go away- I wish I wasn't turning in to the kind of person who can look at someone and think "It should have been you" but I am I finding myself doing that a hundred times a day- like why not him or her or that one- why dad? I don't get it- this fucken cancer shit is the plague- why is it everywhere- why can't they do something more? Why is it popping up all over his body? How much more can he take? Does he want to? Has he had enough? does he even know what is going on? Anyway... I am sad, and I wish I could wake up from this dream now, I don't like it...

The End is Near

Everything seems to be happening rather quickly. Discussions of palliative care have already happened- He was supposed to come "home" last week after the final round of radiation- and nursing would be arranged- but then he collapsed while trying to get up from the washroom and that plan went to hell. I haven't seen him yet since he went into the hospital- I have spoken to him on the phone many times but last I saw him was when he was still at home- weak, and skinny, but still at home- I have not been. I have no desire to - I cannot bare it- but I know that will be something I will have to do probably sooner than I am ready to. My heart absolutely breaks at the thought- what it must be like for him to know -to not have any control. He must be begging God. He must be begging for more time- I know I would be- even if I didn't believe. I would beg anyone who would listen- Please, please- I am not ready, I don't want to go- I want to stay- I'll do anything...I want to see my grandchildren grow up- I want to smell the fall air again- I want to see the blue sky, feel the cold, eat ice cream- hear music- be here for one more Christmas, one more New year- one more birthday, one more week- one more day- I'll do anything... Cripes.. I would be begging. I am going to miss him so much that it makes my heart literally hurt- an ache so strong that I have scared myself the last few days; convinced I am having a heart attack or something. I just cannot imagine how it is going to be without him here- I really cannot. All the little things mostly- Halloween is coming- he was always here for Halloween - they always came and we would take the kids around. He always came for Halloween. I have the children to "hide" behind right now- they are saving me from having to face this head n really- "Oh Jenni has to be there for the children, she can't come" And my poor Sweet baby girl- she will be devastated- just the mere thought of it makes her cry- I have started dropping hints- talking about it as if it is now a possibility- I have to as much as it hurts me I have to start- I have to - There is to much to think about. I think about this kind of stuff all the time- I have been waking in the middle of the night or early hours of the morning every night and I must have been thinking about him because when I wake up that is what I start thinking about and then I cannot fall asleep again sometimes for hours. I am afraid to close my eyes - but yet every single time I wake up in the morning I have to remember that this is all real- everyday I wake up in denial. Everyday. I have changed my opinion somewhat of CC- I do feel sorry for him- I do- I still do not comfort him- but I feel bad for him- this is his daddy after- all and after he is gone he will be it- he is his father's legacy and I think he is afraid he will not measure up- maybe it all too late for that- I think he is just thinking as that little boy inside of him not wanting his dad to go- he's too young- he's supposed to stick around and bitch and moan that CC doesn't do anything or be here to remind him to change the filter in the furnace or all the other things he reminded (or hounded rather) him to do... yes, I do feel bad for him- nothing is ever going to be the same again... Ok... my eyes ache from crying... today was a bad day- maybe tomorrow will be better- too much to think about - Thanksgiving this weekend- having my whole family over- I wonder if this is the right thing to do..