Where were you when the world stopped turning?

Well, you had to know this was coming.  Sometimes I feel like writing, most of the time I don't.  Tonight it will flow out of me with ease.  It's hard to believe that tomorrow will mark the one year anniversary since my dad passed away.  Even as I say it, it doesn't sound real.  The year has gone by so quickly.

Today, many friends made comments about tomorrow.  Although tomorrow marks a milestone, tonight marks a milestone as well.  April 1st is the day my dad died, but March 31st is the night I grew up.  I always wondered if I was "ready" for the day to come.  I wasn't.  Nobody is.

After dad's passing we discussed how Angie didn't make it home in time and how sad that was for all of us.  What we didn't talk about was what it was like for those of us who were here.  It wasn't as though the night of the 31st was horrible.  My dad was sleeping.  He didn't appear to be in any pain.  He seemed fairly peaceful.  The hard part was trying to convince everyone to go home for the night, and for those of us left behind to try and get some sleep.

It was late when everyone crawled into bed, attempting to get some rest.  None of us knew if my dad was going to make it thru the night.  Every bedroom had baby monitor radios in them so we could call for help.  It's probably fair to say that not much sleeping took place that night.  As mom crawled into bed next to my dad she was sad and started to cry.  She told me she hated the idea of waking up and finding that he had passed away.  I promised her that no matter what, I would not let that happen.  I brought one of the hard wooden chairs from the kitchen table into the bedroom and set next to their bed.  I sat in that chair, in the dark, with my laptop to keep me awake, and I watched my dad.  I listened for a different breathing pattern.  I watched for anything out of the ordinary.

As the sun began to come up, I'm guessing 6:30 the next morning, Melana took over so I could close my eyes for a few minutes before the hospice team arrived.  One year ago today, was a night I will never forget.

I miss my dad terribly.  I miss his smirks and I miss his smart ass comments.  I miss seeing him in his chair.  I know without a doubt, he is in a better place than he was toward the end, but being without your dad is tough.

So, on the eve of his one year anniversary, I just want to thank all of our friends and family who have made the past year, a year of remembering and personal growth.  And I would like to give a special thank you to Skagit hospice for their care and guidance the past week of my dad's life.  We will never be able to thank them enough.

With fond memories,
Amy