I just got back from my dad's place. The argh is done. My dad died sometime on Wednesday.
My sister couldn't get an answer on the phone all day Wednesday. She called me around 11:00 p.m. and I got on a bus out to his place. She also got hold of her son who lives in town and he got there before me.
The coroner said it could have been this or it coulda been that. He was 82 and it could just be that his heart went out.
I dunno. I have been staying at his house 4 days out of the week for the past 2 years. I'd been having a very hard time dealing with his dementia was becoming short with him. I need to now deal with that pang of guilt I have that... well, the "what if..." and "should have", could have", etc.
I know it wasn't my fault (yeah right, Robb) and this... well...
I just gotta deal with it all. All the crap I dealt with when my aunt died (dad's sister) 2+ years back. All the yadda yadda and blahblahblah.
Off to my home group tonight, thank the gods, because I am opening the facility. If it wasn't for that simple fact, I probably wouldn't go. Me and my isolationist ways. Sigh... Oh well, my life goes on. Deal with it. Work my way thru it. Carry on and start living my recovery again.
Keep The Faith*