Leslie

Kaytie-- I haven't posted on this board in a long time...but I so related to your post, that I had to respond. I lost my dad one day after my 32nd birthday. While my dad got to see me get married, he will never meet his grandchildren (and I just know he would have loved being a grandpa)--and they will never get to meet a most incredible, human being. He will never get to see his son get married... And I grieve so much for my mom...like you, my parents lived so responsibly...saving so that they could enjoy retirement...they were really starting to take pleasure in the fact that both my brother and I were finally "settled" in our lives...and then lung cancer took over. Both my parents were the paragons of health before cancer...they both were swimmers and runners...this was never supposed to happen. And my heart just breaks for my mom who is having to learn to be alone after 43 years of marriage (she married my dad just a few months after turning 20...) I miss my dad every single day. Hell, every single hour. I will tell you that I find great peace in the fact that I was fully present with him throughout his illness. That our relationship was incredibly strong before his illness--and that the four of us made all decisions together throughout the illness. There is no silver lining...but you are not alone...and your feelings are so understandable. Throughout the experience, I found that writing all of my feelings and being on this board helped... I wish you strength...feel free to PM anytime. Best, Leslie

Terri-- I so relate to your post. One of the things that I find myself turning over in my mind--is that the absence is a presence...as you said, an immortal footprint...and the loss has its own structure and form... Loss seems to have its own physics. Leslie

Dar-- I am deeply saddened by this news. You went through this process with incredible integrity and strength. You were such a support to your mom. I wish you peace in the coming days. Best, Leslie

Dar-- I am truly sorry to hear this news and I know how hard this point is. You have been an incredible daughter and you have honored your mom through all that you have done these past 21 months. While we didn't have hospice at the end, we had incredible doctors and nurses with us to help guide through this period with my dad. I was grateful to have people around who understood what was happening--and could help us help my dad. I wish you peace and strength in the coming days. Best, Leslie

I really relate to your post... I'm right about your age--32. April 27th was the one year anniversary of my dad's diagnosis. He died six months later. I have just started a new job that is extremely stressful. And while on the one hand, I find myself relieved to be very distracted---the job also makes me miss him so much. He was the one person who could have helped me find my center--in the midst of all this chaos..and without him, I am really struggling...Plus, I have had all of these funny experiences since starting---and everytime I think "I need to call my dad, he will get such a kick out of this."--I get that weird kick in the stomach as I become conscious of that thought...and the realization that he is really not coming back. And I too find myself looking at friends and their children--and trying to understand how I will ever convey to my children--what an incredible, what a true gift that I had as a father. And wondering how I'm ever going to figure out how to be as wonderful a parent without him there to guide me... And it's my husband and my second anniversary in a week--and I keep thinking about my dad... All of this is to say, that my thoughts are with you. You are not alone in these feelings. And I just have to believe that good days are coming again. Best, Leslie

Oh Deb, I am sorry things are so hard right now. One of things that helped me when I was taking care of my dad and feeling exhausted--was one of the first rules of first aid: You have to make sure that you are safe first or else you are not able to take care of anyone else. You cannot feel guilty--you are doing an amazing job and you HAVE to take breaks if you want to have strength to take care of your husband. I am sending you strength. Best, Leslie

Kelly-- I can really relate and it's not just anger--it's like a constant level of irritation with EVERYTHING. Nothing feels right...I feel like I'm constantly the critic just picking at everything because I feel so angry. I certainly had these tendencies before (I have to be honest with myself...) but they are multiplied by a thousand since my dad died. I have to believe that this is all a part of living with intense grief...somehow, coming to peace with this enormously painful situation. But, it sure is hard to terms with it in the meantime. And Welthy and Leslie--I HATE the pink ribbons too...argh! Best, Leslie

Deb-- I know how frustrating and scary it is to watch someone NOT eat. This was a real struggle with my dad. We found that Ensure was our best option....but we always had to nag. Like Katie, we also would give him many mini-meals...Making "shakes" with full-fat ice cream, half and half, and a banana also worked sometimes. It could get especially frustrating at times because his palette would change from day to day. One day potato chips were okay, the next day they weren't...he was very sensitive to textures. The key is to be flexible and focus on high-calorie options (full-fat ice cream, whole milk etc. etc.) Megace, unfortunately, did not work for us. Nor did Marinol (which is derived from marijuana)--but I know they have worked for a lot of people. Also, a little prune juice along with metamucil helped somewhat for the constipation. My thoughts are with you. Best, Leslie

Hi Val-- Hope you are finding peace in your days. It is just so hard... Best, Leslie

Carrie-- I am so sorry you are at this point. Obviously, no one can predict how long your mom has...we kept my dad on oxygen for the last few days (although he kept trying to take the oxygen mask off). At the very end, we just took turns holding the mask up to his face so that he could breathe more comfortably. My dad was slightly agitated--but we were incredibly blessed in that pain was a not major issue. Towards the end, he was on a lot of hydracodone and a bit of morphine. Looking back, I find great strength in the fact that we were with him when he passed...and that we had said everything that needed to be said. You have been an incredibly wonderful daughter through all of this with your mom. My thoughts are with you. Best, Leslie

Hi Leslie-- I think about that a lot too. Like you, I most often say my dad "passed away" 22 weeks ago. For some reason, I feel the need to count the time in weeks rather than months. Like Teri, when I want to feel the reality of what has happened, I will say that he "died" 22 weeks ago. Having been with my dad when he died, it really did feel like he was "passing" out of this life...and so somehow that feels most comfortable for me. Best, Leslie

Diana-- I am so sorry to hear that you are at this point. I remember feeling this way when my dad was in the hospital and we were told that we needed to stop treatment and that he needed to leave (despite the fact that he was so weak and very sick)...I began to feel like we were in some kind of "no man's land." They also wanted us to leave because there was nothing else they could do. And yet, we really didn't want to move him at that point. We were very lucky in that we connected with a pain specialist at the hospital who agreed that we could keep my dad for 3 more days in the hospital and then decide what to do...and my dad died later that night. If it is at all possible, I would recommend connecting with your doctor--or find out if they have a palliative care specialist on staff-- to see if you can stay for a few more days. The hospital has no right to do this if your insurance is still covering you. My thoughts are with you and your family. Best, Leslie

Amieb-- I am so sorry to hear that you are at this point. Having been exactly where you are just a few months ago, I know how intense your sadness must be. I can only tell you that at the end, my brother, my mom, and I laid in bed with my dad a lot to be as close to him as possible. He was too fatigued to actually speak much---but we told him how much we loved him over and over again. We rarely talked about the fact that he was dying...it was just too painful for all of us. And frankly, he never seemed to really want to go there. We interviewed a few different hospice agencies--but ultimately decided to keep him in the hospital at UCLA. None of the hospice agencies felt right to us--and UCLA was my dad's second home. We loved our doctors--and had come up with a plan for keeping him comfortable. The one piece that we found extremely helpful was that at the very end (literally his last hour), we worked with a nurse who specialized in death and dying. She helped guide us--as we guided my dad out of this life. She was incredible...and helped us give him the death he wanted and deserved. Just like his life, my dad's death was a very conscious, very deliberate moment--and because he was so generous and so loving and knew how much it meant to us...he included us in his death. So, while cancer had been a tragedy in our lives, we felt ourselves in a sort of transcendent place through my dad's death. I would imagine that hospice has nurses that can talk to you and your Dad (if he wants) about the actual dying process and what to expect. My thoughts are with you and I am sending you strength to get through this. Best, Leslie

Oh Leslie-- I am so very sorry that you are having to do this...you WILL get through this. Hang in there. Leslie

Oh Robbi, Your family has gone through so much in such a short period of time. I am sorry that you are at this point. I am thinking of you and sending you strength. Best, Leslie

Hi Denise-- I'm so sorry that you are here...but I am happy to hear that your husband has responded to the chemo and there is shrinkage. You've come to the right place for resources and support. My thoughts are with you, your husband, and your family. Best, Leslie

Amanda-- I just want you to know that I am thinking of you. We are coming upon the one year mark of my dad's diagnosis and we are almost at the 6 month mark of his passing. Like you, my dad was healthy until cancer came into our lives. And it is just overwhelming to think about the void in my life without him here. You are being very strong and I wish you peace in the coming days. Best, Leslie

I just wanted to say thank you to everyone for your thoughtful responses. I get so much strength from hearing your experiences-- knowing that all of these emotions are just part of the journey. Most of all, it really helps to know that I am not alone in this(although I really wish that no one else had to go through it...) For me, I think it really is about discovering this "new self"...one that exists without my dad and giving myself permission to observe how it reacts to all of these new situations without judgement.And at the same time, remembering that it will change and evolve as I go through this process. Nothing is static and nothing is certain--and I am having to make peace with that. Many thanks, Leslie

Hi all-- I'm not sure if this is going to make any sense...but sometimes posting here helps me get clarity. It's been five months since my dad died. I think about him constantly--and the loss that I feel can be overwhelming at times. And for many weeks, I have described my state of mind as "shattered." Pretty much unable to wrap my mind around the magnitude of this loss. Lately, I find that I feel really, really numb. Almost like I feel nothing. I still have a constant loop going in my mind--"my dad is gone"--but I don't really feel anything. I don't know if this is my mind trying to give my body a break from processing so much emotion--if this is denial--or if this is healing. It's just strange--because I've always prided myself on being very in touch with my feelings and state of mind. But things feel sort of blank--not really in a peaceful way...but in a strange numb way. Does any of this make sense? I guess I'm just worried that I'm having a calm before the storm--and that I'm about to have a massive fall soon. Thanks for listening, Leslie

Hi Melinda-- I'm sorry that you're going through this. It's been five months since I lost my dad and I miss him so much. I keep hoping that it is going to get easier... My thoughts are with you. Best, Leslie

Hi Beachnut-- This week marks 19 weeks since we lost my dad. I can relate so much to what you said about the numbness lifting and the pain becoming even more intense. I miss my dad so much and everything feels so hard. I feel like I spend so much energy trying to push down my feelings of grief so that I can move forward in my day and in my life... I just keep hoping that things will get easier...for all of us. My thoughts are with you. Leslie

Taalia-- I am so sorry for your loss. I lost my dad 17 weeks ago. The void in my life is simply enormous...I am sorry to hear that yet another person has to go through this. My dad died six months after being diagnosed. I think I am still in shock...our lives changed so quickly. In just months, we lost the most precious part of our family. I am finding though that there are moments when the pain is less intense....This board has been so helpful. Just know that you will have good days again. I wish you peace. My thoughts are with you. Best, Leslie

I know losing a spouse is different than losing a parent (even a parent that you were very, very close to...)--but I really relate to so many of the feelings you expressed in your post. The emptiness, the profound loss is so hard. I lost my dad 17 weeks ago and the word that best describes my state of mind is "shattered." But from my brief journey--I can tell you this...there are going to be moments, hours, and days where you WILL feel stronger than you do right now. I know how hard it is to believe when you are in a really dark place--but it will happen. I wish you peace in the coming days. You are not alone. Best, Leslie

Sue-- My thoughts are with you. Your strength radiates through your posts. I'll bet Mike would be very proud of you. Best, Leslie