i don't know how other people cope or process grief. i honestly don't know. but i'm someone who has to think and write out my thoughts and feelings as a way of getting them out.

i have a lot on my heart and mind as i grieve my dad after what felt like a sudden illness, a month of setbacks and close-calls, and his relatively short time in palliative care before he died last thursday. 

i also know that the story unfolded in a specific order of events, and i want to write them down so that i don't forget or the details don't get fuzzy.

but ultimately, i miss him and i'm so sad that he's gone. i'm hoping that by giving him my heart and headspace that i will be comforted and soothed.

over my 40 year relationship with my dad, our dynamic changed and evolved in both good and bad ways, and went through a lot of versions. when i was a kid, we were super tight. when i was 10, my parents separated, which severed our relationship in significant ways. in part because of absence, but perhaps more significantly because of misunderstanding and miscommunication, although the lack of availability (physically and emotionally) didn't help at all.

when i was around 25, circumstances shifted and he became much more involved in both my life again and my sister's life too. he was a phone guy, and he's usually try to be in touch at least once a day. we didn't always answer. i was often annoyed by it. but as i got older, and he persisted, he eventually wore me down and started playing a more significant role in my life once again. in recent years (i can't say how many – maybe 10?) he has called several times a day. i would make a point to answer at least once (even if simply because if i didn't he'd keep calling). i grew really fond of him again, and let go of old feelings of hurt, disappointment and critical judgmentalism (on my part). i think i was always really fond of him, but i had a wall up for a long time and didn't want to be vulnerable to him for fear he might hurt me again, but i let down that wall. anyway, i would say i've had a good relationship with him for the last 15 years or so. he made me laugh and brought me joy. i frequently told others "i enjoy him". it felt i was finally back in the close relationship i had with him when i was a child. there was something in me that resonated with something in him. i felt most at home when he was part of family functions. my family felt complete when he was there, probably because of all those years when he was absent. our inner workings functioned in the same way. we had a lot of the same strengths and a lot of the same struggles. in enneagram terms, we're both 7s with an 8 wing. we shared a certain level of understanding.

at the beginning of the pandemic, i found myself indulging his frequent calls with more willingness. just to say that when called 5 or 6 times a day, i'd answer the phone each time. he was, after all, stuck at home at home alone with an immunocompromised pre-existing condition (kidney disease, PLUS a kidney transplant), so the least i could do was talk to him. it's not like i had anything more interesting to do. plus, he made me laugh (he used to joke that he had a really busy pandemic schedule. that he sits in a chair and stares at a wall, then switches to another chair and stares at another wall). i think it was during that time that i became especially attached to him – he was part of my everyday life. i told him about the nitty-gritty of my daily, parenting life, then followed up later with updates. he really genuinely cared. we also talked about the news, COVID and politics. after brendan, he was the person most involved in my life. he called a lot, and i benefitted. i started doing his costco pharmacy runs and grocery shopping, and learned to factor my aging parents into my work-life balance.

i started observing that he wasn't eating very well. he was mostly living off cereal or cans of soup, and would often pick up fast food to eat on my porch (sharing the fries with my boys). in may, after a routine kidney appointment at the hospital, the nurses called him in to be admitted. his creatinine and calcium levels were too high and he needed to be on an IV. i wasn't too concerned about this, he'd been in the hospital at least twice before because of his creatinine levels since his kidney transplant. he usually enjoyed the change in routine and talking with the hospital staff. looking back now, i wonder if i didn't understand the seriousness or if he just downplayed his kidney disease. i suspect it was a bit of both. over the following months, we found we needed to get medical information directly from the hospital staff because he wasn't conveying all the important information.

at one point, a hospital staff member called to say i'd been given approval to visit on odd number days. so i went in to see him on kidd 4. he was sitting on a chair by the window reading the newspaper. in that moment, he seemed content, not particularly sick, and like his usual self. he was happy to see me. he was having some digestive issues and would often have to rush to the washroom from time to time. it makes me sad to think of now, because those urgent washroom breaks caused a ripple effect that led to his death four months later.

during that visit, he admitted with a fair amount of reluctance that he has not been taking care of himself very well. his doctor was upset that his declining kidney health had slipped through the cracks, and efforts were made to set up some homecare for him. ideally a homecare nurse would go in regularly to provide general care, but also keep an eye out for signs that he was not doing well. the hospital staff offered to set up help with meals and chores, which he declined, but 5 minutes later he called the nurse back in and admitted he needed help. he said "i'm a survivor" and explained how he tries to get by on his own. he talked about his childhood poverty and the shame he developed of having visitors in his home. he was very embarrassed to admit to her, and later me, that his apartment was deeply neglected, since he was not well enough to keep on top of chores in recent weeks and months. 

he asked me if i knew anyone who he could hire as a housecleaner. i told him that wasn't necessary, and that i would help him. that evening i took his house keys and went to his apartment to "just quickly do the dishes". i can't, and don't really want to even if i could, describe the state of his apartment. but i will say that i had to give myself reassuring self talk within seconds of walking in – "it's ok. you can do this".

he was discharged the next day, and i started going in as often as i could to help with chores. brendan and i got rid of a big broken recliner that was taking up too much space to help declutter his one-room apartment. we even invited him to live in our basement in-law suite. he gave it some thought, but felt he wasn't quite done with living in his apartment building (he had lots of friends and acquaintances there and felt he could make a positive difference in their lives). he wanted to move to a ground floor apartment in his building, and start getting some home-care, and eventually, when he really needed to, he would move to our house. we agreed on this two phase plan.