It is with broken heart that I come here to inform, that my hero, my dad, passed away yesterday, April 10th. I was able to take care of him till the end and be with him when he took his last breath.
I know that once things clam down, the grief and feelings of emptiness will be overwhelming, so I better write this post while I'm still capable of doing it.
I have written a dedicated post regarding his last treatment that led to his dramatic decline and death, so I will use this post to speak about what kind of a man my dad was.
My dad grew without his father - he was only 3 years old, when he died - miners did not live long back then. To be born in former Yugoslavia during WW2 and without a father, meant he hardly had time to be a child. As his older siblings left home early, he, living with his mom and disabled sister, had to start working a small boy. He grew up to be kindhearted, responsible, hard working man, taking care of his loved one. He was a man of action, naturally intelligent, he could do anything from scratch with his hands without plans on paper. And boy, he loved to work - you could hardly see him rest until disease, or should I say, unprofessional treatment, that was based purely on his age, made him slow down.
My dad and my mom gave me a warm home, one that I always loved to come back to; even when studies or work took me away, I came home most week-ends. And I always refer to our house as my home. Not because of the bricks, but because I always felt unconditional love and support from my parents. I could have not imagined better parents and I would have chosen then again and again. Being born to them, was like hitting the jackpot.
My mom died in 2016 and then in was only my dad and me. But we stuck together and while this disease has taken so much from us, it also brought us even closer. We were both, my dad and I, workaholics. My dad, though he would do everything for me, seldom expressed with feelings. He became softer, more emotional. And 4 years ago I got the opportunity to work from home and moved back to him. We spend the last 4 years eating every meal together, going on countless walks, expressing our feelings and nothing was left unsaid. I was able to take care of him till the end and be with him when he took his last breath.
I know that it will be very hard for me to move on, to find a new meaning in life, but I have promised my dad, that I will be fine, that I will find joy in life again. And promises are to be kept.
I hope that one day I will be stable enough to offer support to men and their families fighting, but I feel I must now take some time off this page to regain purpose in life.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you all for your support. I wish and pray that cure will come for this terrible disease.
Heartbreaking choice - prayers and thoughts welcome
My Cousin John Is Gone
Dad in Hospice, Here Now with the honor of seeing him home
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