It's been a rough few months. Dad passed on January 6, just two days before his 67th birthday. His decline was very rapid, having been diagnosed with stage IV pancreatic cancer back in September. On one hand, that's not a bad thing, he didn't suffer too long. September and most of October he was still having good days a fair bit. November the illness took hold much worse and by December he was in the hospital permanently. We did get to bring him home for Christmas, and I think that was his last big burst of energy. Almost until the end, he was cracking jokes and making us laugh, teasing the nurses and just generally being the fun guy that he was. The nurses in palliative care all shed tears, both when he slipped into a coma and when he passed, he was a bright spot in their day.
We promised him there would be no funeral, and that nobody would see him lying in a coffin, instead we had a big party in his honour this past weekend. Even with the horrible weather, we had about 300 friends and family show up. There were a few tears, but mostly laughter and warm memories. And food. A lot of food - dad was big on having tons of food whenever people were coming over, so he would have been proud of the spread! There is another party this coming weekend at the bar that he used to cook for, and they're expecting another few hundred friends. If I can get out of work early enough on Saturday I'll be going. They're raffling off a huge batch of his t-shirts that mom donated with the proceeds going to charity.
I'm slowly getting back to life as usual. It feels weird that I have a day off today and I'm NOT running up to Brantford and I can just relax. I still cry a lot and expect that will last for quite a long time yet. Dad and I were close, always. I could always count on him to make me feel safe, through all the ups and downs in my life. I'll go for hours, sometimes a couple of days where I'm okay, and then it hits me again that he's gone and it hurts so much that I can't stand it and cry for hours. Going through pictures and music this past week in preparation for the memorial was so difficult. I'm back at work, which helps a lot. They have been fantastic through everything. Support to lean on, time off whenever I needed it - which was a lot - and just helping me cope with it all.
It'll be a few weeks before I start working on new designs again, I need some time to decompress, but the desire is starting to brew in me again, so that's a good thing. I have been stitching lots, there's not a whole lot else to do while sitting in a hospital room at 3AM. It's helped keep me sane. Heading off to do some more now. :)