Makyna :
vent!
The last words my dad said to me were "Goodnight, have a nice sleep, see you in the morning." The next day, my mom woke me up in tears that my dad was dying on the hospice bed, in our living room. I was there with him, holding his hand. His eyes were open, but we knew he wasn't really conscious, just barely breathing. I was there, next to his side, until he took his last breath. My mom was there with me as well. She tried to desperately resuscitate him (she is a retired nurse), deep inside she knew it was pointless, yet she still tried. Then, I was just hopelessly watching the doctors who arrived at our house pronounce him dead. I regret that I haven't spent more time with him, didn't have more conversations with my dad. It broke me. The last time I told him I love him was when I kissed his cold forehead, whispering it and hoping he'd hear it, even though he wasn't there anymore. The worst part is that I thought he was getting better, because my mom didn't tell me what Hospice really is, she kept it to herself until the very end, because she didn't want me to suffer like she was the entire time. They were such a healthy couple, loving parents, they were soulmates. My mom will never ever be in another relationship, because she knows that she won't ever meet a man like him. She's gonna stay loyal to my deceased dad until the very end of her own life.
2026-08-02 18:59:13