roxyfoxy
07-19-2006, 11:58 AM
Hey everyone, I was hoping I wouldn't have to ever post on this board, but here I am. My father was diagnosed with bladder cancer 3 months ago. The doctor told us a year or two, but the cancer just spread like wildfire. Nothing could touch it.
I live in Canada and came back home (NJ) after his diagnosis to help him out after his surgery. I stayed for a month and had to get back home. I have an 8month old, btw. July 6th I spoke to my family and they said I should plan to get back soon, he was getting weaker. My husband drove me and the baby right away. We made it in time, he passed away July 9th.
I am having a hard time with everything. First I was sad, but now it had turn to anger. He was only 56, my youngest brother is 17. How could this happen? How could he die so young? Why?
As you can imagine my crawling 8 month old is keeping me busy, so I haven't really cried since the funeral last thursday. I started thinking, what's wrong with me, I should be upset. Now that I write this I see what was wrong. I haven't taken any time for me to grieve.
I am trying so hard to stay strong, afterall, crying won't bring him back, will it? I hate this whole thing. My son should be able to enjoy his Pop Pop, but he will never know him and surely won't remember him. On the other side of the coin, he didn't think he would survive to see any grandkids, but he did. My brother gave him a little girl and I gave him a boy.
I am not sure the point of writing this and I don't know what I expect from all of you. I guess getting it all out helps the process.
I live in Canada and came back home (NJ) after his diagnosis to help him out after his surgery. I stayed for a month and had to get back home. I have an 8month old, btw. July 6th I spoke to my family and they said I should plan to get back soon, he was getting weaker. My husband drove me and the baby right away. We made it in time, he passed away July 9th.
I am having a hard time with everything. First I was sad, but now it had turn to anger. He was only 56, my youngest brother is 17. How could this happen? How could he die so young? Why?
As you can imagine my crawling 8 month old is keeping me busy, so I haven't really cried since the funeral last thursday. I started thinking, what's wrong with me, I should be upset. Now that I write this I see what was wrong. I haven't taken any time for me to grieve.
I am trying so hard to stay strong, afterall, crying won't bring him back, will it? I hate this whole thing. My son should be able to enjoy his Pop Pop, but he will never know him and surely won't remember him. On the other side of the coin, he didn't think he would survive to see any grandkids, but he did. My brother gave him a little girl and I gave him a boy.
I am not sure the point of writing this and I don't know what I expect from all of you. I guess getting it all out helps the process.

