Two years ago we received the dreaded call in the middle of the night. I was awake as usual, I'm a total insomniac. It was my brother telling me to get on a plane, my Dad was ill. Fortunately my husband knew the FBI guys at the airport and we were on the plane in 5 minutes.
We rented a car on arrival and went directly to the hospital and I was the only person there. As I looked around I started to feel hysteria, he was hooked to a ventilator and swaddled like a mummy. My Dad was dying and we were saying goodbye. I went to him and could tell he recognized me, he grabbed my hand and kept holding it tighter and tighter. I leaned over and kissed him .
As I understood what was happening, my Dad's most hated thing was going to the doctor. The day before he had 3 doctors appointments that took all day. When he got home he said he was going for a nap. My Mom says he was still sleeping at 11:00 PM when she turned in.
We have no idea what happened and we never will. We think he got up to go to the bathroom and slipped or tripped and fell on the metal bar on the bottom of the shower landing on the bridge of his nose and fracturing his skull. Somehow he tried to get up or he was slipping in all the blood, he smashed the back of his head on the marble jacuzzi tub and fractured his skull again. When he was brought to the hospital the neurologist said there was absolutely no hope he could survive, his skull was crushed like an eggshell.
There is not anyone on the planet that was Daddy's girl like I was. We did everything together. Even after I left home he would come wherever I was to have lunch or dinner.. He was a hugely successful, powerful man and he did it all himself. He was a huge adventurer, he forged his mother's signature and went to war when he was 16, he went on safari, he did everything and took me along for the ride sometimes..
I stood next to his bed in either shock or disbelief that this spectacular man was going to leave me for such a stupid thing., the few times I ever thought of him crossing over it would be when he was 99 on some deep sea fishing excursion that he loved.
After he passed I wrote and delivered the eulogy which I was told was something my Dad would have loved. At the time I was highly medicated for my bipolar problem, I was taking 14 pills at a cost of $40,000 a year, I was taking 1200 mgs of seroquel.
I have no idea what is happening , this is the first time I have told anyone about what happened to my Dad. I did not comprehend any of it. This is the first time I am telling this story to ANYONE. I did not understand why I felt like the deer caught in the headlights. Was I so medicated I could feel nothing. All I understood was that I did not have any emotions. My mother said I was completely catatonic.
My Dad called me every day of my life no matter where he was, after I got home I just kept looking at the phone. I cannot tell you how many times I picked up the phone to call him with some story which he loved.
Ever since his death I cannot and have not spoken about him or done absolutely anything that makes me go there.
The other day I saw all the father's day cards and gifts and I felt like someone had shot a crossbow arrow into me. I was shaking like a leaf
and for the first time since his death I actually thought of him.
I am absolutely paralyzed , what happened to me ? Did I go to another planet for two years ? I have not felt any of the things you experience with grief.
I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO, I BLOCKED OUT THE PICTURES OF THE BATHROOM, THERE WAS BLOOD IN EVERY INCH OF A VERY LARGE BATHROOM. DID HE KNOW WHAT HAPPENED, DID HE REALIZE HIS LIFE WAS OVER. DID HE UNDERSTAND WHAT HAPPENED ?
WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME ?
ALLISON