Grief, bereavement, loss of a parent
- Thread starter SixTwoSix
- Start date
Soldato
I am sat besides my father, 84 at Northwick Park Hospital at 2:54am.
The old man and my mum managed to catch Covid back in Oct22 but my dad was never the same. He also has quite heavy psoriasis due to an experimental drug he took in the early 80’s designed to push back the effects of arthritis until later in life. Side effect of this was psoriasis from the age of 70 onwards.
When dad caught covid his psoriasis flared up massively and the raw skin on his arm became infected at some point during November 22. He was weakening over time towards Christmas but my mother and I assumed it was just his arthritis giving him issues.
One day after his birthday on Jan 3rd this year he was taken to hospital having hot and cold flushes that my mother couldn’t control. Antibiotics were given to him. His first week saw him walking around and chatting away to everyone on his ward albeit via a zimmer. He sounded fine on the phone - just bored when we spoke.
He wouldn’t let mum and I visit him however saying that there was a high risk of covid in the ward. Eventually after a day of not receiving a daily call from him we went in.
What we saw was dread. His eyes barely open, just him breathing hard as I write this now. He’s been like this for 4 days straight and the doctors have told us that there isn’t much that can be done anymore. The infection has hit his kidneys and is spreading faster than he can fight it. Antibiotics haven’t done much.
I am broken up inside but am holding it together for my mum. I have no brothers or sisters but we do have some close friends lending support. Funeral prices are somewhat terrifying too as Asian ones require a priest etc and go on for a few days.
I m so damn tired I don’t know what day of the week is and it pains so hard inside.
Edit: He passed away a few hours in front of me after I wrote this post.
The old man and my mum managed to catch Covid back in Oct22 but my dad was never the same. He also has quite heavy psoriasis due to an experimental drug he took in the early 80’s designed to push back the effects of arthritis until later in life. Side effect of this was psoriasis from the age of 70 onwards.
When dad caught covid his psoriasis flared up massively and the raw skin on his arm became infected at some point during November 22. He was weakening over time towards Christmas but my mother and I assumed it was just his arthritis giving him issues.
One day after his birthday on Jan 3rd this year he was taken to hospital having hot and cold flushes that my mother couldn’t control. Antibiotics were given to him. His first week saw him walking around and chatting away to everyone on his ward albeit via a zimmer. He sounded fine on the phone - just bored when we spoke.
He wouldn’t let mum and I visit him however saying that there was a high risk of covid in the ward. Eventually after a day of not receiving a daily call from him we went in.
What we saw was dread. His eyes barely open, just him breathing hard as I write this now. He’s been like this for 4 days straight and the doctors have told us that there isn’t much that can be done anymore. The infection has hit his kidneys and is spreading faster than he can fight it. Antibiotics haven’t done much.
I am broken up inside but am holding it together for my mum. I have no brothers or sisters but we do have some close friends lending support. Funeral prices are somewhat terrifying too as Asian ones require a priest etc and go on for a few days.
I m so damn tired I don’t know what day of the week is and it pains so hard inside.
Edit: He passed away a few hours in front of me after I wrote this post.
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Caporegime
@Kainz much love. Hope you and your mum are as OK as you can be.
Soldato
Sorry for your loss. It'll be hard, but try to draw strength from supporting your Mum... and let her support you too. Being needed can be a great source of comfort, as can allowing others to help you when you're at a low ebb.
There are no rules for grief, though the "supportive" nature of the necessary arrangements can be a framework which forces you through the first few weeks and helps a little. But don't be afraid to make it up as you go along and do whatever helps you cope, no matter how daft.
For me, with no other family commitments and some savings to buffer me before I have to get a job after 8 years of caring, it's been walking since dementia finally killed my Mum in November. Perhaps don't aim for 50 miles a week (at least I'm down from 75 the first few weeks!) but... getting out, fresh air, random chats with strangers (many of whom will be entirely familiar with grief's sledgehammer). I can also recommend -- perhaps not in these early stages, but later, when support starts to dissipate and things can get harder in some ways -- Cariad Lloyd's Greifcast podcast and perhaps the recently release book for your Mum.
I listened to Rev Richard Coles' "The Madness of Grief" audiobook on an Audible trial straight after Mum's death. His experience wasn't too similar to ours, but the journey and "madness" is the same for all in many ways. It was a comfort to hear his.
I'm not going to say it gets better quickly. It doesn't. Two and a half months on I'd say my life's only a complete mess rather than a total mess! You've lost one of very few witnesses to every moment of your life, and someone who knew you almost, or maybe even better than you know yourself. Grief is, as the tired old cliché goes, the price we pay for love, but it's a terrible price.
The very best to you and your Mum, and to all those out there who may read this at some point in the future, seeking some kind of solace or support at their lowest ebb. I have no Faith to lean on, but as an anti-social, Billy No Mates type for most of my life, I've learned that there are some things human beings are simply not meant to, and probably not capable of, dealing with on their own. Meet, talk, read, share, type frustrations into the great social media void; do whatever you need to do to get from one day to the next and be the person your Dad would want you to be. He can't hug you any more, but he helped make you what you are. He's still proud of you; he just can't tell you.
Where's the hug emoji when you need it? Made myself cry just typing all this. Which may be why I'm irrationally sharing what I wrote for Mum's small graveside service.
Love isn't measured in flowers
Love isn't measured in grief
Love isn't measured in years
Or in a sense of relief
Suffering may be over
Mourning may begin
But love isn't measured in tears
Or in a gathering of kin
Love survives
Our rise & fall
And love can't be measured
...at all
Sorry for your loss it has been over 2 years since my Dad passed and its almost like it was yesterday I can remember the day and it will be a memory that will never leave me.
The fact is he passed away in another country on holiday whilst I was decorating his room, ordered new sofas and a new tv so it would be a surprise for him made it even worse. Now the room is a memory room I even sit in the exact same spot he sit to remind myself of him. I never actually got to speak to him as he was in hospital the last word I heard from him was 'don't worry I will be fine'.
This was early morning and I was going to ring back at lunch as he was adamant he would be discharged by the end of the year but he took a turn for the worse and had a heart attack. The news of his death sent shockwaves throughout the family and things are never the same anymore.
2 years on things have changed and you never actually get over it but learn to accept it, remember the happy times and if people have their loved ones still alive learn to appreciate them before its too late so you don't regret anything.
The fact is he passed away in another country on holiday whilst I was decorating his room, ordered new sofas and a new tv so it would be a surprise for him made it even worse. Now the room is a memory room I even sit in the exact same spot he sit to remind myself of him. I never actually got to speak to him as he was in hospital the last word I heard from him was 'don't worry I will be fine'.
This was early morning and I was going to ring back at lunch as he was adamant he would be discharged by the end of the year but he took a turn for the worse and had a heart attack. The news of his death sent shockwaves throughout the family and things are never the same anymore.
2 years on things have changed and you never actually get over it but learn to accept it, remember the happy times and if people have their loved ones still alive learn to appreciate them before its too late so you don't regret anything.
@Kainz really sorry for your loss, not sure what words I can offer at this time, this thread alone is evidence of how badly I dealt with my own loss. The only advice I will offer is time does help, just keep going day by day - there's no time limit or expectation on the easing of grief.
Soldato
- Joined
- 22 Nov 2007
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- 4,099
@Kainz so sorry to read about your father, its awful to see loved one suffering.
My grandad was diagnosed with lung cancer in November aged 95, he said no to any treatment. When he first went into hospital in mid November (after a couple of long sessisons in A and E) he was hopeful that he may be able to live for a few months and be at home in relative comfort. That wasn't to be in mid December he took a downward turn and from then on he couldn't keep anything down and could barely talk.
He would spend a lot of time sleeping and he would wake up with a startled expression and a grimaced look. On xmas day my immediate family spent most of the day by his bedside as we were told he had taken another downward turn, that was a really surreal night. We were holding his hand and telling him to let go, he would groan occasionally and try to get out a word but it was garbled. The worst bit for me was seeing tears from his eyes, not sure if that was end of life body process or he was actually sad that he knew he didn't have much time left. He had all of his faculties so god knows what was going through his mind in the final days. On the 27th they introduced something called a pile driver syringe(something like that), he died later later that evening.
You can't complain about dieing at 95 but still it was a nasty way to exit the world.
My grandad was diagnosed with lung cancer in November aged 95, he said no to any treatment. When he first went into hospital in mid November (after a couple of long sessisons in A and E) he was hopeful that he may be able to live for a few months and be at home in relative comfort. That wasn't to be in mid December he took a downward turn and from then on he couldn't keep anything down and could barely talk.
He would spend a lot of time sleeping and he would wake up with a startled expression and a grimaced look. On xmas day my immediate family spent most of the day by his bedside as we were told he had taken another downward turn, that was a really surreal night. We were holding his hand and telling him to let go, he would groan occasionally and try to get out a word but it was garbled. The worst bit for me was seeing tears from his eyes, not sure if that was end of life body process or he was actually sad that he knew he didn't have much time left. He had all of his faculties so god knows what was going through his mind in the final days. On the 27th they introduced something called a pile driver syringe(something like that), he died later later that evening.
You can't complain about dieing at 95 but still it was a nasty way to exit the world.
Soldato
@SixTwoSix - I've only just seen your thread despite your username being one of my favourite Disney characters.
I'm sorry to hear of your loss, and thanks for the bump around the 1st anniversary of it happening.
I lost my Dad aged 72 to an aggressive form of bowel cancer. He was a smoker but gave up 7 years prior to his death and was never overweight, so no idea how he ended up with bowel cancer. I was 42 at the time, so only a year older than you and it was not long after you lost your Mum either.
Like you said in your bump, time (can be) a healer of time but I find that music also helps. I made some aggressive playlists e.g. metal, industrial and rave, then some calming playlists too and alternated between them. It will be subjective, so try and find some genres which you think might help you.
I'm sorry to hear of your loss, and thanks for the bump around the 1st anniversary of it happening.
I lost my Dad aged 72 to an aggressive form of bowel cancer. He was a smoker but gave up 7 years prior to his death and was never overweight, so no idea how he ended up with bowel cancer. I was 42 at the time, so only a year older than you and it was not long after you lost your Mum either.
Like you said in your bump, time (can be) a healer of time but I find that music also helps. I made some aggressive playlists e.g. metal, industrial and rave, then some calming playlists too and alternated between them. It will be subjective, so try and find some genres which you think might help you.
I can never remember who it is that get's my username - thanks for the reminder
Funnily enough, I didn't bump this thread last year, it was a random person who joined on the 1 year anniversary of the thread and bumped it.
One thing i'll add to this thread two years on is that the 2nd anniversary of mums death hit a lot harder than the first, I was fine up until the day, then it was like a sledgehammer to my chest all day long.
Close to a month later I realise it's probably because during the first year, I thought about this event every day, so when it got to the 1 year anniversary, my emotions were already amped up.
Whereas this last year, there would be solid periods of time where it didn't enter my thoughts, just another tragic event from the catalogue of my life that I dealt with. Then when that day came around, it's all I could think of and the emotions were raw again.
Soldato
Soldato
- Joined
- 21 Jan 2010
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- 3,529
To add my experience, my dad died 14 years ago, after a very long struggle with cancer.
I was a mess, but had to "sort everything" for the funeral and getting in touch with family/friends etc as my mum and sister couldn't. In a way, I think that probably helped, as I was busy.
One thing that was a comfort to me was wearing my dad's old gardening jumper I found in his cupboard, which still smelled of him. I know that probably sounds weird...
Time doesn't make it hurt less, but it does hurt less often. That's something I know.
I was a mess, but had to "sort everything" for the funeral and getting in touch with family/friends etc as my mum and sister couldn't. In a way, I think that probably helped, as I was busy.
One thing that was a comfort to me was wearing my dad's old gardening jumper I found in his cupboard, which still smelled of him. I know that probably sounds weird...
Time doesn't make it hurt less, but it does hurt less often. That's something I know.
Soldato
Sounds lovely to me.
Terrible news, I'm so sorry for your loss. I don't have the words, but we're here for you if you need anything 
Soldato
nothing weird about it. smell is a very strong sense that can bring back many memories and sensations. he's your dad, use whatever tools are at your disposal to remember him and cherish those memories. anyone who tells you it's weird needs a punch in the throat.
Hope things get better asap for you OP. I literally don't know what I will do when Mum and/or Dad go. I think a lot of us men are seen as unbreakable and never cry by our kids/family/friends. Knowing some day I'm going to have to try to a) say the words out loud to my kids that they've passed and b) speak at the funeral..... just seems like it would be impossible. But then I guess if they get to a very old age, it becomes more acceptable...ish... don't know. It's hard to picture life without people.
Soldato
Thank you all for the kind words, and SixTwoSix - lovely thread. Reading these stories has helped massively.
Two days on and I find that keeping myself occupied helps greatly.
Today I've been rushing around Wembley all over the place and eventually got the certificate of death from my council. Tomorrow I'll hopefully get in touch with the funeral director and sort that out for next week. With so many people coming to my mums place to pay respects, it is impossible to get anything done. When I'm on the bus or train I still find myself drifting off in thought when I would normally be browsing my phone.
Two days on and I find that keeping myself occupied helps greatly.
Today I've been rushing around Wembley all over the place and eventually got the certificate of death from my council. Tomorrow I'll hopefully get in touch with the funeral director and sort that out for next week. With so many people coming to my mums place to pay respects, it is impossible to get anything done. When I'm on the bus or train I still find myself drifting off in thought when I would normally be browsing my phone.
This happened to my dad too. My mum thought he was crying and I assume it was some kind of discharge. Either way it was horrible to see.