i lost my dad about a week ago. he died from sorosis of the liver. people say that alcoholism isn’t a disease. that people can stop when they want to. believe me, my dad wanted to. but he couldn’t. it gets to a point where the person cannot stop. once you get to that point, it’s like there’s no going back. he drank since he was 17. so like around my age, and stopped drinking a few months before he passed away. you have no idea how hard this was not only on him, but also it was extremely hard on me and my mom. im 16 years old, and i watched the only person i knew as a dad slowly die in front of my eyes. the pain of knowing there was nothing i could do other than old his hand and be there for him. he was hospitalized for a month before being transferred to a different hospital, we stayed there for about 2 weeks, then the doctors told us the one thing nobody wants to hear. “i’m sorry but there’s nothing more we can do.”
and that was it. they sent him home to die. to have hospice come over every other day, and to have my mom and I take care of him. being a 16 year old you may think that taking care of my father would be too much, that im not old enough to do it, but you see my mom isn’t in great health either. she has a heart problem they have to do open heart surgery on her, her spine is deteriorating, she couldn’t bathe him herself, move him so he didn’t get bed sores, hold him up while she changed him, she couldn’t do that by herself. and he raised me. he’s my dad. it’s the LEAST i could do for my dad. it was like that for what seemed like forever but now that he’s gone i would give anything to have more days with him like that than have no more days with him. i remember when i would wake up to go say good morning to him, he would get the biggest smile on his face to see me walk in the room, and that was the best feeling in the world. that i made him that happy even when he was at his worst. but then slowly it got worse. he just slept and slept and slept. we tried to get him to wake up but we couldn’t, and that’s when we knew he wouldn’t make it much longer. my mom called john hopkins hospital and begged for them to do a live liver transplant, but they wouldn’t do it. God I was going to give him half of my liver just so I could have my dad in my life long enough to walk me down the aisle at my wedding when I was older. he’s my dad. he taught me so many life lessons, he was there for me, holding my hand when i was hospitalized for months, tickling me, playing dolls with me, building little houses and cabins and forts out of lincoln logs with me, playing with planes, walking the dogs, playing army with nerf guns in the back yard, he taught me how to ride a bike, he taught me how to paint well, he taught me how to grill, he tucked me in at night, and when i couldn’t sleep he would sit up at night with me and we would just talk about everything we would sit outside on the porch listening to chuck berry, blossom dearie(his favorite artists), the beatles, and so many other artists. he’s such an amazing person and he wasn’t always drinking so much, he really was a good guy. he passed away Easter morning. my mom was doing the dishes, i went to say good morning to her, then i walked in the living room to see my dad and sit with him, but his chest wasn’t moving. it was the worst moment of my life, my heart was in my throat, i felt like i was suffocating. it just really really really sucks that my dad isn’t here, but i know he’s watching over me from heaven. and he’s watching over my mom. he’s sitting up there watching his war movies and western movies in his favorite hawaiian shirt or his favorite camo shirt. and he’s watching over us.