warmlove's Diaryland Diary

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My Dad died yesterday evening. To type that, just simple like that sounds and feels horrible,cold and removed and not real.
The past weeks of gorgeous sunshine and trying to get the boys away from Mum so she didn't have any extra stress and going to beautiful places like the beach and the forests and walking across some of the most beautiful country-side felt so wrong because it was everything I would need to have a perfect summer day but the weather lied because Dad was sick at home in pain - He should have ben happy and healthy and WITH US! Like the last time I went to Studland with him, Abbey and the boys. The hour that my Dad died, dark grey clouds rolled over it started to rain, in the first time in all those weeks. That was right. I was either in the shower or talking to my Mum about how she KNEW he would die tonight...Strange as it sounds, I was thinking about going to Naomi's hen party - because I thought, like last night, after we had all spent time by his bed, chatting to him, keeping him company, so he wouldn't wakeup alone, in the dark (I played some Buena Vista Social Club music that I knew he liked quietly in the background), I thought he would fall asleep then we would all (Family - Granma, Celia, June, Joy, Marlene, Aunt Lena, my sisters, my sisters boyfriend) be sat talking, eating drinking so I might as well go for a bit (celebrate getting to see Nai and Soph... and not drink loads to try and bury the sorrows because it would end badly! It might not have felt wrong to go,at that point because I thought Dad would have 5 more days or something.And I had been forced into taking my Granma and aunt Lena, Marlene to Salisbury on a fucking long, pointless shoppingtrip earlier that day. I can't explain, in this time of sadness, grief, anger and a million and one other emotions, how you do often have the ability to do un-important stuff because life is still hurtling on around you and sometimes it gave me stuff to talk to Dad about, because he's always cared and been so interesting in everything
I've been up to in the past.

It didn't feel real, I never thought that it really could happen I couldn't bring myself to write anything over the past few months because THIS was my absolute fear.
But then I had hope, I had inexplicable faith that a miracle could happen and he would respond really, really well to the treatment and live pain-free for a few years. But the deteriation that I saw over the past three weeks has been so rapid, especially over the past few days. I saw My Dad's freedom and his life get smaller and smaller after his diagnosis and we hoped for a period of remission where we could all jump on a plane and go to Jamaica or somewhere we've always hoped to go. The tragedy for me isn't any regrets or things I wished I'd said to my Dad - he knows how much I love him and how grateful I am for the great times spent together and how hard he worked to give me a great life

Jess it seems has lost any sense of empathy or humanity because she'd been taking loads of codeine painkiller over the past months or years or whatever so ive had to try and prevent myself from bitch slapping her from here to next Tuesday over the past couple of weeks
but Dad is the important person, I reminded myself.
I don't know what to say... I appreciate the help family are giving right now but I hate how a cousin can tell me not to repress how I'm feeling when she doesn't know me well and to try and comfort me with all the stuff I know like I'm a 12 year old didn't hit me well,(AND TO make assumptions about my relationship with my Mum... grrr - I did do that thing when we were on the fucking pointless distraction shopping trip, to just say that relationship Love is bollocks and I don't believe in it, I've given up, just to push some buttons, and I didn't bother to say I was joking! Of course, I've been searching for love in a relationship and hope to find it every time I step foot outside of my house! But it is a good way to knock back the clich�s that get chucked in your face!!

But the talking to me like a 7 year old is what she needs to do to control part of a situation that could be totally whirlwind and out of control. I hate the time of a funeral because you have the set up of what could be a great, happy occasion - people who are great friends and family together but it is for the saddest occasion... I feel like I have to make a decision whether to try and be the bringer of people together and uber positive... summon that considerable energy or just protect myself and just be sad and very quiet. but the Irish and Jamaican's have a similar funeral style which is celebratory, social and positive about great memories of the person. I hope that there isn't an uncomfortable clash, id love for it to be (too fucking late for my Dad)pure evidence of how well these two sides of the family could have got along, and how there no cause for suspicion or prejudice. If not, I will just bridge the gap, clich� style!
My DAD...PADDO..Patrick Joseph Browne. I love you more than anything, and I will miss you so, so, so, so much - I can't describe and more than I even know yet. I am sorry this happen to you..I am full of Rage and anger that this wasn't caught early so you could have had a chance to fight it, you were un believably strong and brave, but it didn't give you a chance. No more pain now(I always wanted to drag out seeing my Dad when I would arrive home because that 5 minutes of first seeing him and catching- up were the best and I never wanted them to end!)
x

9:26 a.m. - 2013-07-29

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