How do you get over the trauma of watching someone when they die?

cmagnum, I haven't picked a doctor yet, but I went to get an eye exam today. My pupils are still fully dilated, so it's kind of hard to search online. My eyes are ok, but I found out I have a tilted optic nerve in my right eye. He said we just have to keep an eye on it.

vstefans, thank you for your prayers. As I said, I still believe in God and I think He sends people our way to help us. Being on this forum has helped me enormously and I have also started posting to the Aftergiving site.

Suzanne50, I truly feel for what you are going through. You are in my prayers.
I found the following article on a site called Mildly Mystical:

What it Means to Say “You’re in My Prayers”
Sometimes life comes at a person I care about in ways that challenge anyone’s ability to cope. When my actions, or theirs, have no power to change those circumstances, all I can offer is presence and concern. And prayer.

But when I tell someone, “My thoughts and prayers are with you,” or “I’ll keep you in my prayers,” what does that really mean? And what does that person want when they ask me to remember them in my prayers?

We all have different hopes and expectations, as we have differing experiences of prayer. But I see at least seven things conveyed when I offer to pray for you:

1) It acknowledges the crisis and pain in your life

2) It says that I am concerned about you, I am with you in your suffering, and I won’t forget about you when we part

3) It recognizes that our lives are subject to things we cannot control, and that we share that position of vulnerability

4) It reminds us both that we have access to spiritual strength that helps see us through the difficulties that life brings

5) It holds faith in the possibility of strength and healing, in some form, through means we cannot predict or understand

6) It points to an interconnected web of life strong enough to contain suffering and still hold beauty, meaning, and love

7) It promises that you are not alone

Hansolos, my cousin's ex-wife was going to a Catholic church in Marin County where the priest said premarital sex is ok. When I was a child, I used to get a lot of comfort from plenary indulgences -- I don't think they have those anymore. In Catholic school they used to tell us that if you attend mass and receive communion on nine consecutive First Fridays of the month you were guaranteed the grace of a happy death -- meaning, you were guaranteed to go to heaven. Because I used to miss school a lot, I don't think I ever made it to nine in a row, but I tried.

Parysia, as you went to theology school, you know a bunch of the old school dogma of the church was much more tradition than what the church actual true meaning is. I go to the church still out of tradition. Where in the heck did they have confession in front of others? OMG. Never here, though you do meet with the priest face to face. Eh, we are only required once a year...I myself only go if I'm baptizing a relitive. But it can offer comfort in times like these, and now the social atmosphere can be really good. I really think as long as you're good with God youre good, I just happen to be born and raised catholic but honestly think all religions have their place. I know God, I know Jesus and I like my church because we know the people and I grew up in it. The more history I study (I'm in school, a history major) the more fascinating I find all religions. The more I learn, the more I find how inter-connected faith really is. I don't think it matters where you go, more if you find solace with those who are in that place. It's not something you seek outside, it is what you seek within and others can help guide that to find it in yourself. What I was told was Vatican II was trying to get back to base principles of the church and set aside some rituals that had become tradition but we're not the heart of what the church was. I did my conformation when I was way older so I got to hear a lot of great speakers (priests) on the subject. I thought it was really cool the church could change, for me it showed I was in the right place. :) what I think the priest was getting at, because he is aware of times changing, about pre marital sex is same as any 'sin' if that's even the right word, is though we make mistakes we are forgiven. We are fallible humans so everything we do wrong is not automatically a sentence in hell...it was never supposed to be like that, it was always supposed to be loving and forgiving and tolerant.

Hansolos, I agree with you that no one faith is better than another as long as the message is positive and life-affirming. I realize some of the traditions of the old Catholic Church were outdated and had to change the way society changed. I'm glad that you were raised in a church where you experienced fellowship with the rest of the congregation -- that is a blessing. It just wasn't the same for me. When I was going to Catholic school, I loved being in the beautiful little chapel and going to mass, but there wasn't too much social interaction in my parish. They used to serve coffee and donuts after mass, until someone stole the donuts -- that's life in the big city. Our local magnificent cathedral was burned to the ground in the 1970s. I went on an orientation retreat in college where there were a lot of young charismatic Catholics. I'm sorry I didn't feel the zeal. We were doing things like staring into candles on the floor. During an agape ceremony where we were supposed to hug each other, some guy started nibbling my ear. As the chalice was passed from mouth to mouth, another guy whispered, "What if someone has VD?" How can anyone have a spiritual experience under those circumstances? The most beautiful religious experience I had was when my family and friends gathered to pray the rosary together at home after a relative died. I was a child then and I loved the sense of mystery the repetition of the prayers evoked. The deacon who presided at my mother's funeral service at the mortuary said he would only recite one decade of the rosary, because most people fall asleep, Then he started to tell jokes as he gave the eulogy. I have a sense of humor, but I wanted a tribute to my mother, not a roast. I just happen to prefer a sense of reverence at mass and funerals, because that's how I was raised. That doesn't mean being happy at a funeral is wrong. It should be whatever the bereaved prefer, because funerals are for the living. Anyway to me the difference between the old Catholic Church and the new one is like the difference between the Old Testament and the New Testament -- they both have eternal truths and outdated practices.

As an update, I'm still seeing both therapists. I did my homework and made an appt with a Primary Care Physician on the 20th. The female therapist gave me a list of free grief support groups -- she found only two in SF -- the first one I had tried already which got cancelled for low attendance. The second one is held at a church and meets only once a month. It's hard to believe there aren't more grief support groups at churches for such a natural yet devastating human experience.

I think it's in the actual congregation probably. I'm in a big city, or fairly big hahaha we held the title as the murder capital of the U.S. for awhile (San Bernardino) the Detroit of the west coast lol. So yea, my parish is in downtown so I know what you mean. Haha gross dorks in church has always been and always will be part of growing up Cathloic. I never take stuff all that serious so that kind of stuff is funny to me, I mean at my own wedding my cousin made a face at me and I had a giggle fit, and when my grandpa passed, my grandma (his wife) was saying remarks to me and my dad and we were dying trying not to giggle. Idk, life is too short :) I love when eulogy is like that when it fits the person...I've gone up and given several. Glad you make a dr. Appt. keep up on your path, you're doing good. Even though I'm sure it doesn't feel that way.

Don't get me wrong, I have a very good sense of humor -- sometimes I can even get jokes that fly over other people's heads. My early life was fun like yours was when there were lots of goofy cousins around -- but after my grandmother died things changed and relatives drifted apart. Even my grandmother's two daughters were hardly there for her when I was her caregiver. They lived too far away. Right now I'm in touch with my cousins more, because they have been coming out of the woodwork, but I realize they can't always be there for me. My pet peeve is when they make promises to help me and then can't follow through -- better not to offer in such a case because it increases feelings of isolation. For example, my clairvoyant cousin volunteered to help me sort through things at my house this week and wanted me to call her to set up a time, preferably today. I called her yesterday and she was busy buying a Corvette sports car (her and her husband already have eight collector cars). She didn't even call me back because she had to go out to dinner last night. This morning she called me while I was at the therapist, and said she'll be away all day til late afternoon. She obviously doesn't have time for me, but that's nothing new. All she did was increase my feelings of guilt and envy about not having a car which might have made life better for my father and me. My father said he didn't envy anybody, but I thought he was just being zen about it, because there was no solution to this problem, unless I learned to drive and buy a car, something he really didn't want me to do in the first place. He thought car ownership was too risky, too expensive and we have a huge parking problem in our neighborhood. Some of my neighbors have resorted to car vandalism over parking disputes, slashing tires, breaking windshields, pelting cars with eggs, swearing at each other and such, and this is not even the ghetto. Thankfully, my brother is taking me to the Peruvian restaurant again tonight.

Parysia, learn to drive. Seriously. Big rocks in first. You can do this, unless you have a really bad visual or visual perceptual impairment you haven't mentioned. Car ownership and driving are without a doubt the most dangerous activities that we modern people do, and maybe some future anthropologists will not even be able to believe we did such a hazardous activity as a matter of course, but frankly, unless everything you want or need is on a bus route or within walking distance, that's how people do stuff if they can. It would be nice if your "clairvoyant cousin" could see your feelings and needs instead of whatever else it is she's clairvoyant about. Otherwise, I'm not real impressed with her sportscar collection. I'm much more impressed with the apparent goodness and soul-healing properties of the Peruvian food you keep writing about. (Hmmm...Didn't we have a recipe thread on here at one point?)

And the Catholic thing - the way I understand it is the "little t" traditions like when do we abstain from meat, fast all AM vs just an hour before communion, do Latin vs vernacular, and organ vs guitar - those are things that can change over time. We don't even feel we dishonor St. Paul by not doing some things the way he did them in his churches. We just changed up some translations of major liturgical elements and who knows, they might get readjusted again...which mainly means rewriting some of the service music. We do some things the way we do them just because we recognize the current authority of the Church as scripturally justifed. That gets into a big to-do about "sola scriptura" versus what we believe, and its a very legitimate disagreement between Catholic and Protestant, but that's beside the point. The BIG things - like the Real Presence of Christ, the sacred nature of scripture, the duty to love one another and bear one another's crosses (rather than BE one another's crosses, which seems to happen a bit more than it ought to, no?) -those things don't change! The Mass is always the Mass, even if the homily stinks and the musicians are off key. :-)

Thank you, vstefans, for your encouragement. Perhaps I will learn to drive, but I have to get over that feeling of regret that it's too late to help my dad. I feel that having too much fun would be like dancing on his grave, because the fun would not have been possible unless he had died. I still can't play music without getting depressed, because I'll never enjoy any of the arts with my dad again. It's hard to explain the level of loss I feel. I'm not saying I loved my father more than other people love their dads, but I was more reliant on him for my feeling of purpose and self-worth than most people, because I'm not married and don't have children. It's like we had switched roles -- I became the parent and he became my child. As he got older, I loved him even more because he needed me more. At the same time, I felt so sorry for the frustration he felt over losing his physical strength which had been such a source of pride and security for him. We talked every day of our lives, but there are still things I wish I had said to him.

If I can get over my anhedonia I will be very surprised, because I was so utterly dependent on my dad for happiness and meaning in my life. People see me smile and even laugh, and they think I'll be ok, when I'm really dying inside. People say I'm brave because I'm reaching out to people, but it's because I don't want to die of loneliness. No man is an island....

My dad was unique but in the best sense of the word. He was even different from his brothers and sisters -- kinder and more cultured -- how he became this way is a mystery to me. Maybe he was a throwback to his maternal grandfather who was a professor and Renaissance man. The only thing my dad lacked was an education -- he dropped out of school to help support his family.

My neighbor invited me to her lesbian birthday party at a bar tomorrow night, but I'm not lesbian and I don't feel like partying. She and her partner can be very sweet, but are hell on wheels when provoked. I invited them to the Peruvian restaurant next week because that would be less stressful than a wild party. I invited my next door neighbor but she has a thesis to write and her dog has an ulcer.

I might as well plug the Peruvian restaurant which has been giving me so much comfort. It's the Limon Rotisserie -- there are three locations in SF. When life hands you lemons go to the Limon.....

Parysia,

I once knew a woman who refused to learn to drive because her children lived next door with their own families. Thus, either her husband or one of her children could drive her where she wanted to go. She was in her 40ties and her mom was 65. Her mom had always depended upon her husband to drive, but once he died when she was 65, instead of expecting her grandchildren or son in-law who law who lived near by to come drive her places, she learned to drive and many did she travel and drive everywhere she wanted to go. She was quite a contrast to her daughter when it came to driving.

I think getting your own car and learning to drive is an awesome idea! That can be a great part of your new life of freedom which you have never really had!!

Just because you are not married and don't have children doesn't mean you can't find purpose in life and self-worth now that you are on your own.

While I'm married and have children, I don't see my basic sense of purpose and self-worth as coming from my wife and children. I had a basic sense of purpose and self-worth before I got married as a single person living on my own.

Nor do I view my children as providing my basic sense of purpose and self-worth in life. They have left home and are living their own lives. They appreciate our raising them from birth through college, but they have their own unique sense of purpose in life and their own self-worth that's not dependent upon mom or dad.

As painful as it is and as it sounds, a big part of your journey involves moving from having your sense of purpose and self-worth in life coming from your dad to discovering your own unique, separate sense of purpose in life and your own foundation for self-worth as a individual person who is a separate human life!!!! You can live and enjoy life now apart from dad as hard and as painful as that is to believe.

That's got to be painful, scary, and exciting all at the same time!

Your faith is a great source of feeling self-worth or at least it can be. The Bible says that God created you, just like he created everyone else in his image. One thing among others things that this means is that human beings are spiritual beings and can have a relationship with God through Jesus Christ. The Bible also says that God love you and that God loves you so much that he sent Jesus into the world to be your savior.

I also believe that your faith can be a source of a solid sense of purpose. I think the Bible tells us as Christians that our main purpose is to love and know God, to love others because God loves us, and we look forward in hope toward the day we will live eternally with God when Jesus returns and we are resurrected from the dead.

Your priest could help you in this area for I doubt that either of your therapists could unless they are Christians as well.

Make a plan and a date in the future for when you want to take a driver's ed course and get your driver's licence and then buy a car along with car insurance.

I continue to wish you the very best! Take care and keep in touch.

Thank you, Cmagnum, for your very thoughtful response. My very best wishes to you too!

It's going to take a lot of time for me to develop a new mindset. I have an adventurous streak, just haven't had a chance to indulge it much. However, back in 1999, my father and I travelled to a remote village in Mexico to view some petroglyphs and the local Passion Play. Our guide was a friend who played Jesus Christ. If I hadn't urged my father to go with me, we would have missed out on a once in a lifetime experience. I am deeply grateful that he went on that trip for my sake. I'm glad I also urged him to go to the Dickens Christmas Fair twice, because that left us some fun memories which he also enjoyed. He was quite a hit with the ladies when dressed in his Victorian outfits. There would have been many more fun memories if I had been able to drive him places, but alas, it didn't happen.

I pray to God that he will give me resignation. On the way to the restaurant this evening, my brother was playing the same classical radio station that my father and I used to listen to. It made me sad and anxious to hear it. My SIL remarked, "But you like classical music yourself." Yes I do very much, but my enjoyment of music and movies is inextricably intertwined with my father's enjoyment of the same. Now I don't think this means I should go to a headbangers ball to take my mind off my father's favorite music. I really want to be able to enjoy again the things I once enjoyed with my father, but for now it seems impossibly sad. There are many films and songs that I don't think anybody would enjoy in quite the same way as we did. However, one of my dad's friends from work went to see him at the hospital to thank him for broadening his cinema horizons. Now he's almost as big a classic movie fan as my dad and me.

I asked my SIL if she understood my reaction to the music, and she said not really, but she knew a friend of a friend who was very close to her only son, who was also her best friend. After his suicide, she became obsessed with his death. The woman's son had served in the Iraq War. It was his job to clean off the human remains of Iraqi soldiers from the tread of the tires on the trucks that had run them over. Because he was a kind, sensitive man, over time this grisly task caused him to become severely depressed.

This evening my brother told me the devil is trying to drag me down with the regrets and guilt feelings. He said I was an angel toward my dad compared to how his daughter treats him!

Now that my father is gone I don't even like shopping for groceries, because he's not there to enjoy them. My father and I also enjoyed figuring out what to order from Safeway Delivery. Even mundane tasks were fun when shared with my dad. The only comfort I can take is that he must have been just as glad to have me as I was to have him to share the joys of living.

There is a good priest at a local church I might ask to counsel me and give me confession. He seemed very sympathetic when I told him a few weeks ago that I was at the lowest point of my life after the loss of my father. I asked him to pray for me. His homily that day had been about people who are at a low point in their life, He said that when we are feeling down, we should be extra attentive to God's presence, because he speaks in whispers, and we shouldn't mistaken other impulses such as suicidal thoughts to be from God. I have been reluctant to take up more of his time, because he is needed by people with worse problems than my own. I don't think many people would understand how painful my grief is unless they've lived with a loved one for 55 years and shared the same interests. Priests have to detach themselves from their families in order to effectively serve their congregation.

Yesterday I called a friend I hadn't heard from in a while, to tell her about my father's death. She said my dad was a wonderful man and she would have attended the funeral if she had known. She doesn't drive either and I thought it would be hard for her to get to the mortuary since we used one located out of town. She said she still cries every day since the loss of her brother seven years ago. He was 85. Her brother used to talk to her on the phone every single day.

Once again the Limon Rotisserie did not disappoint. My only complaint is it's one of the loudest restaurants I've ever been to, but there's a lot of good energy there.

Yes, it will take some time to develop a new mindset. You are important; your problems are important; and your problems are big. The priest will know how much time and energy he can give you within the boundaries of all that he does. Tell him what you need and to set up some meetings over whatever amount of time he thinks is appropriate and get his support. Maybe, you could ask him if there is someone in the congregation who can identify with your painful grief of living with a loved one for 55 years with whom they shared the same interests who has moved forward in their life since their loss. Discovering a supportive person like that would be wonderful for you.

Thanks again, Cmagnum. Just wanted to add that I assume that you and your children developed your sense of self worth apart from your parents, because you were free to leave your parents' home and pursue your own interests and goals independently. I could have left the family home at any time, but I was needed there and I felt secure and loved by my family. I had to do without a lot of things, beause I wasn't earning a salary, but I was used to not having a lot of material possessions. Since then I have overcompensated and now have too much stuff. I was raised in an old-fashioned household where my grandmother didn't work outside the home. Nobody I lived with even drove a car. When I was growing up I lived with my father, my grandmother, and my two great uncles. One of my uncles used to drive, and was even a talented mechanic, but he had fallen on hard times due to his alcoholism. Fortunately, my grandmother had plenty of other brothers and sons who drove, and who ran errands for us in exchange for a good home-cooked meal or gas money, sometimes both. I was raised to believe there is no such thing as a free lunch or a free ride. Family members learned to help each other as a survival strategy during the Great Depression. My great uncle, who never married or had children, opened his home to many relatives during the 1930's on up into the early 1980's. This is why I'm not used to living alone -- there were always people coming and going in those days. My father and I were the only ones who lived here permanently so to us fell the task of caring for our older relatives.

Hi, my childhood and my wife's childhood were far different from yours. While we did get out of or parents' homes, it took some years and being in therapy to get all of the freedom that we needed. I've even had to get our two boys into therapy to help them with various things that arose because of family dynamics that were intruded upon the most by my wife's mom and somewhat by my mom.

I've not sure that I want to post my condensed version of my journey and my wife's journey here. I may just post it to you as a private message on your wall.

I would be very interested in reading your story privately, if you are comfortable with that. I was thinking about my situation growing up and the idea came to me that I was almost like a displaced person, since my father and I landed there as a result of my parents' divorce when I was five. While my great uncle and grandmother were very gracious, and loved having us there, it certainly wasn't the typical living arrangement.

I went to the older male therapist today. I told him about how I can't see movies or listen to music associated with my father, because it makes me feel sad and anxious

He suggested I force myself to listen to a song or watch a film that makes me feel sad and uneasy to see if it makes me cry. He said my anxiety is from the repression of my grief. I haven't tried it yet, because it's so painful.

I've posted my story as a private post in 4 segments on your wall.

I agree that your life does sound displaced. I was 4 when my mother left my dad.

Thank you so much for sharing your compelling story. I will reply privately as soon as I can.

I was the caretaker of my dad, who suffered from Parkinson's with dementia. When he caught pneumonia, I was angry with myself for not taking his earlier cold symptoms more seriously. It only took a few days of pneumonia, to trigger a several day dying process.
I fought it. He was my responsibility, and I wasn't ready for him to go. But he was on Hospice care at home, due to having a terminal disease. His body couldn't take any more punishment.
I was alone with him as his weak eyes opened, looking at nothing... and as his labored breathing became one last, raspy exhale. We're a spiritual, Christian family... and I told him to go to the Lord.
I was very close to him. Watching him die was like watching myself die. My youth, my innocence, it is dead. Death is now a constant scene in my mind, playing over and over. His current absence is both sad and strange.
As bizarre as the following events may sound to most of you, please know that they are true... and I'm not making up some tall tale. Two days before Dad died, our front door opened. No, it wasn't just a half shut door blown open by the wind... the door knob jiggled with a metallic noise, the knob turned... and it opened. The four of us who witnessed this turned, and waited for a person to come marching in. There was no one. It was the dark of night, and we live in the country.
For those last few days, as I slept in the room next to my dying Dad, I could hear murmurs and whispers. Conversations conducted by people I couldn't see... with the exception of a brief flash of light one night.
A few days after Dad died, a solid "knock" occurred on a wall next to me, as I laid in bed. I simply smiled, and said "Hey Dad. Hope you're feeling better now." My Mother has also heard his voice a few times.
I believe the only comfort to be had, when witnessing the death of loved ones and knowing our number will also be called... is to have faith or spirituality. If this isn't a realm you wish to explore, then most definitely seek some sound psychotherapy to deal with it.
It's been two weeks since my Dad died. I am intensely sad, and feel "disconnected" from life as you said. But I also know that there is more to life than I am aware of...

Please accept my deepest sympathy for the loss of your dad. I'm glad that he was able to cross the veil and give you some proof of his survival. I wish my father would give me a sign. My cousin had a dream about my dad on the night he died. He was in a beautiful forest He looked younger and healthy. He told her he is ok and he asked her to take care of me. I don't know if it was just a dream or a message, but my cousin has dreamed about other family members on the night they passed away.

I'm glad that your faith is helping to sustain you during this difficult time. I was looking forward to attending a grief support group at St. Mary's Cathedral on Wednesday, but because it's Ash Wednesday, the meeting has been postponed until the following Wednesday. It's been a challenge trying to find the help I need. I am no longer seeing the younger therapist and will stop seeing the older one as soon as I can find a good psychologist. I read that many psychiatrists don't do talk therapy anymore, because it doesn't pay as well as drug therapy. Hopefully, the MD I will be seeing on Friday can give me a referral.

The house is quiet and lonely this cold, gray morning. Last night I heard a loud bumping noise near the ceiling of the dining room, but I hear a lot of odd noises at night, probably from temperature changes. Just as you said, my father's absence is sad and strange. Since my family moved into this house in 1935, this is the first time there has been only one occupant. It is better that I am the one who has to endure the loneliness and not my dear father. He used to like to say, "A family that stays together, stays together." The only time I wasn't by his side was when I was doing chores, running errands or using my computer in the next room. Still I wonder if I had spent even more time with him, would he still be alive?

I totally identify with the constant thinking about death that happens after you lose someone close. Its a different type of thinking about it than when you are depressed, you don't have that feeling that death could be a welcome thing or that your life does not matter, but if you are not careful, it can GET you depressed.

Just an update for those who advised me to go to confession. I just went and I am now back in the fold. I was walking home from my therapist's office when I decided to walk by a local church. People were getting their ashes and so I stood in line and got mine. Afterward the priest said he would be hearing confessions -- the timing was perfect so I decided it was meant to be. I cried during my confession and the priest was very understanding. The lady ahead of me was still crying when I came out of the confessional. I confessed all my sins -- at least, the ones I could remember. It is good to be able to pray in a state of grace again. I am going to schedule another memorial mass for my father this coming Sunday. I hope this priest pronounces my dad's surname right. I'm also still seeing the younger female therapist because she told me she is trained in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and also Dialectical Behavior Therapy. I had forgotten to ask her, because I was so busy talking about my grief. So now I have two therapists, two churches, and two grief forums helping me and the doctor visit on Friday. I've also signed up for an online grief counselor and am waiting to hear back. I need all the help I can get to battle my intense grief and loneliness. My online friend in Cincinnati has also been extremely helpful, because she has lost both her parents, too. Once again, thank you to all of you here who have given me moral support these past weeks. This is a great site. Hugs.

I have been through the same thing...for non medical people death is not something they know a lot about. You can only say that it was their time and you did your best. I still have nightmares now and again, living the last night of my mother over and over but we all have to die sometime. You never 'get over it', like the death of a child, you just learn to live with it, that is about the best it can be. On bad days you can maybe light a candle, talk to the sky, read a book of poems about family, whatever is your thing......it all takes time, and you need to take it easy....it takes as long as it takes....there is no set time to suddenly 'get better'.....you go in fits and starts forward then back, but in the end you get there with some peace in your heart, but still sorrow too. I wish you well, many of us have been there. It is not easy, but life has a habit of throwing things at us to 'test us' to see if we can cope.....we are women, we can!

Death is part of the life cycle but it's always hard to lose those we love. How we cope is very individual. As you say - it takes as long as it takes. I still feel my loved ones with me so that's how I cope. It's different for everyone.
Take care all of you. It's something that we all share.
Carol

I HOPE THAT I WILL (NEVER) GET OVER MY WIFE'S DEATH! I WAS HOLDING HER AND KISSING HER AS SHE DIED! NEVER..EVER WILL I FORGET HER LAST BREATH.

IF THERE IS AN "AFTER LIFE" WE WILL FOREVER BE CLOSE AGAIN.

SONNY

Sonny, I'm sorry to hear about your wife's death. That has hit you very hard. My dad is dealing with many of the same feelings after seeing his wife die last May. He is 89, but she was several years younger than him. He prays every night for her to come and get him. You are in my prayers.

I watch my dad die on icu the way he died with the tube in he's mouth and being sick why he was in a coma

Nadine, those images are forever etched in your mind. But you remind yourself, please, of the better times when you were small and he cherished being your father. That is how he would want you to see him.