Story
Christmas is a time for giving. A time for happiness. A time to enjoy and surround yourself with family and friends.
The lead up to Christmas this year has beyond broken me. There are no words. No comparisons. No explanation what so ever that I can attempt to give for the feelings I've felt these past few weeks all leading up to 16:16 on Christmas Eve 2015.
I've been crying randomly and uncontrollably for about 3 weeks now at the slightest thought of losing my dad or anything that reminded me of him. Coldplay yellow rings a bell as we've always loved that song or just playing football and thinking of how he used to take me and come and watch every game when he was well enough to be there on the sidelines. I think I knew something was coming. It was almost like a 6th sense. I'd been an absolute state, bursting into tears in the high street, panic attacks at night or at football and generally feeling like I couldn't breath all the time. My body was crumbling stress and anxiety. And the final straw was when I finally broke and could not hold it together at work any longer... so I caved. I realised it was time for me to sort myself out and I took a trip to the doctors to get help.
I got signed off from work until January and referee for counselling. I think it felt like a small relief that I had a chance to try and recharge and spend some more time with my dad. I was signed off on Tuesday 15th December, and it was the day after in that same week that we received news that dad's condition was at a turning point and beginning to deteriorate more than ever. These past 3 and a half years have been packed full of dreadful news and rollercoasters, but this really seemed like the beginning of the end. I think it really did hit home... like I really knew it was going to happen this time round.
The last few weeks and days have been a complete blur. Sitting by his side near on every day for the last 2 weeks, I saw a change almost every day. I saw him slowly stop responding. His eyes didn't follow you around the room. He stopped smiling when I walked in the room. He stopped making noises when you tried to speak to him as he hasn't been able to speak for a few weeks now. He lost all expression. And we gradually started to lose him as a person.
Last night and today was by far the most painful and horrible experience of my entire life. I sat by his side from 7am this morning holding his hand and telling him how much I, and everyone, loved him, and that it was going to be ok. I cried hysterically God knows how many times over the course of the day as I played his favourite songs by the bee gees, Bob Marley and ub40, and I sat there wondering how I'm ever going to get by in life without him being there.
No matter how many times they said he has 3 months, two weeks, a month max, maybe a few days, you can never EVER prepare for a moment like what came today. His breathing slowed. He looked so frail. Each gasp became so weak. And for some reason, as he lost colour, and started to doze I suddenly stopped crying, just as my 2 aunties, my uncle and dads wife began to cry hysterically as we all saw what was inevitably coming.... I stopped crying completely... I held his left hand with my other hand on his heart, and I told him I loved him. I told him everyone loved him. I told him it would be ok. I looked in his eyes as he began to fade and told him that it's going to be alright and he doesn't need to worry or be scared anymore. I said he could rest.... And moments after, while my hands and arms were shaking with fear, he took his last breath, closed his eyes and went to sleep for the last time.
It was very peaceful and calm. Although I still sat there for a good few minutes or so holding his chest hoping I'd feel a heartbeat or another breath out of him. It seemed so surreal. And once my uncle took me from the chair and hugged me... It was only then that I truly broke down.
My hero, my idol, my rock, my support, my encouragement, my comedic inspiration, my everything... My dad. He's gone. He's finally at peace. He's not suffering anymore and doesn't have to fight a cancer that can't be cured. He never once complained about all the treatment, the side affects, or ever asked the question "why me?". He was given 3 months to live over 3 and a half years ago now. He's fought all the odds for a cancer which only 3% of people live more than 3 years. I'm still in complete disbelief.
My world feels broken. My life feels pointless. I can't even begin to explain the emptiness inside for losing my dad, such a kind, hilarious and amazing person who literally everyone loved. A dad, brother, son, nephew, uncle, and a friend to so many, he is such a well known and loved person who's been taken from us way too soon. I don't know how I'll deal with this upset, anger and so many emotions I physically can't control right now. But I do know one thing. We need a fucking cure for this cunt called cancer. Nobody deserves to go through what he had to, let alone the upset that my family, friends and I have seen him go through over the last few years, weeks and especially recent days.
I don't think I'll sleep for days or weeks. I'm traumatised by the thought of those last few moments and the image of his lifeless body afterwards every time I close my eyes. I don't think I'll be ok for a long time. I don't know how anyone gets through this. And Christmas most definitely won't ever be the same again...
Please please spare a few pounds this Xmas and help me fuel my emotions into something that might make a difference to others in the future and fuck this thing called cancer off for good.
The lead up to Christmas this year has beyond broken me. There are no words. No comparisons. No explanation what so ever that I can attempt to give for the feelings I've felt these past few weeks all leading up to 16:16 on Christmas Eve 2015.
I've been crying randomly and uncontrollably for about 3 weeks now at the slightest thought of losing my dad or anything that reminded me of him. Coldplay yellow rings a bell as we've always loved that song or just playing football and thinking of how he used to take me and come and watch every game when he was well enough to be there on the sidelines. I think I knew something was coming. It was almost like a 6th sense. I'd been an absolute state, bursting into tears in the high street, panic attacks at night or at football and generally feeling like I couldn't breath all the time. My body was crumbling stress and anxiety. And the final straw was when I finally broke and could not hold it together at work any longer... so I caved. I realised it was time for me to sort myself out and I took a trip to the doctors to get help.
I got signed off from work until January and referee for counselling. I think it felt like a small relief that I had a chance to try and recharge and spend some more time with my dad. I was signed off on Tuesday 15th December, and it was the day after in that same week that we received news that dad's condition was at a turning point and beginning to deteriorate more than ever. These past 3 and a half years have been packed full of dreadful news and rollercoasters, but this really seemed like the beginning of the end. I think it really did hit home... like I really knew it was going to happen this time round.
The last few weeks and days have been a complete blur. Sitting by his side near on every day for the last 2 weeks, I saw a change almost every day. I saw him slowly stop responding. His eyes didn't follow you around the room. He stopped smiling when I walked in the room. He stopped making noises when you tried to speak to him as he hasn't been able to speak for a few weeks now. He lost all expression. And we gradually started to lose him as a person.
Last night and today was by far the most painful and horrible experience of my entire life. I sat by his side from 7am this morning holding his hand and telling him how much I, and everyone, loved him, and that it was going to be ok. I cried hysterically God knows how many times over the course of the day as I played his favourite songs by the bee gees, Bob Marley and ub40, and I sat there wondering how I'm ever going to get by in life without him being there.
No matter how many times they said he has 3 months, two weeks, a month max, maybe a few days, you can never EVER prepare for a moment like what came today. His breathing slowed. He looked so frail. Each gasp became so weak. And for some reason, as he lost colour, and started to doze I suddenly stopped crying, just as my 2 aunties, my uncle and dads wife began to cry hysterically as we all saw what was inevitably coming.... I stopped crying completely... I held his left hand with my other hand on his heart, and I told him I loved him. I told him everyone loved him. I told him it would be ok. I looked in his eyes as he began to fade and told him that it's going to be alright and he doesn't need to worry or be scared anymore. I said he could rest.... And moments after, while my hands and arms were shaking with fear, he took his last breath, closed his eyes and went to sleep for the last time.
It was very peaceful and calm. Although I still sat there for a good few minutes or so holding his chest hoping I'd feel a heartbeat or another breath out of him. It seemed so surreal. And once my uncle took me from the chair and hugged me... It was only then that I truly broke down.
My hero, my idol, my rock, my support, my encouragement, my comedic inspiration, my everything... My dad. He's gone. He's finally at peace. He's not suffering anymore and doesn't have to fight a cancer that can't be cured. He never once complained about all the treatment, the side affects, or ever asked the question "why me?". He was given 3 months to live over 3 and a half years ago now. He's fought all the odds for a cancer which only 3% of people live more than 3 years. I'm still in complete disbelief.
My world feels broken. My life feels pointless. I can't even begin to explain the emptiness inside for losing my dad, such a kind, hilarious and amazing person who literally everyone loved. A dad, brother, son, nephew, uncle, and a friend to so many, he is such a well known and loved person who's been taken from us way too soon. I don't know how I'll deal with this upset, anger and so many emotions I physically can't control right now. But I do know one thing. We need a fucking cure for this cunt called cancer. Nobody deserves to go through what he had to, let alone the upset that my family, friends and I have seen him go through over the last few years, weeks and especially recent days.
I don't think I'll sleep for days or weeks. I'm traumatised by the thought of those last few moments and the image of his lifeless body afterwards every time I close my eyes. I don't think I'll be ok for a long time. I don't know how anyone gets through this. And Christmas most definitely won't ever be the same again...
Please please spare a few pounds this Xmas and help me fuel my emotions into something that might make a difference to others in the future and fuck this thing called cancer off for good.