My Dad.

November 1, 2010.
It was a day that started out like a lot of my days did then. My husband, Zeb, was at a class for work about an hour away, my daughter, Izabella, then 9 months old was playing in the living room while I straightened up the house. I had just gotten off the phone with my Mom, she was at school, I called to tell her hello, and to talk a little about the Saints vs Steelers game Zeb and I had went to the night before. I left my phone on my bed and went to check on Bella. By the time I got back to my phone I had a missed call from my sister-in-law, Alyssa. Before I could call her back my oldest brother, Shane, was calling, for the brief second before I answered I thought he was calling to talk about the game.

That phone call, the words that came next, changed my life. "You need to get to the hospital, it's Dad, it's bad." My dad had his 3rd heart attack only 3 weeks before, Shane had called me then too, but this call was different. He couldn't tell me if Dad was alive or not, he honestly didn't know. I don't remember more of that conversation, if there was more. I remember falling to my knees and begging God not to do this.


My phone started ringing again, it was Alyssa, she was hysterical. I later learned it was because she had been the one who found him, she stopped by with her 2 boys to surprise Paw Paw with a visit. Her surprise visit gave us 2 extra days with my father. She is our angel, though I doubt she will ever believe that. I begged her to tell me if my dad was alive, she couldn't answer either, she just didn't know.


The next hour was a blur. I know my in-laws managed to drive me to the hospital, and that someone, maybe me, got in touch with my husband. I received 2 phone calls on the way there, one from Shane telling me that my dad was gone. The other from Shane's aunt-in-law, I cant really remember who, telling me he wasn't! They had found a heartbeat and he had a blood pressure, we had hope.


In the hours that followed time seemed to stand still. Waiting, that was all we could do. Wait and pray. Pray and beg. I did a lot of begging in those first several hours. Begged God for more time with my father, begged God to give my daughter more time with her grandfather. I held my mothers hand, I remember thinking, "Please God, she wont survive without him."


Then the doctors came out and we all crowded into a small room, where they explained that while it wasn't good, his heart was stable for now. But, because no one knew how long his brain had been without oxygen, we had to wait for the results of his EEG to give us more information. That would not take place til the next day.


We weren't able to see him for a few more hours, when we were I begged him to fight, we all did.

The next day Shane pulled me into the Chapel in the ICU lobby. He told me that our Dad had no brain activity. He told me that he would not wake up. I don't remember much of what he said after that. He then told our youngest brother Carl, followed by Steven. I cant imagine how hard it was for him to get those words out. He explained to the 3 of us that our Mom wanted our blessing before taking our Dad off of life support. We spent the rest of the day there, with our dad during visiting hours, with each other when we couldn't be with our dad.


They did a repeat of the EEG the next morning and it showed the same thing, no brain activity. We began to say our goodbyes. It had been decided at some point that I would not stay once he was taken off of the machines, so I said goodbye to my father, I promised him I would take care of my mom, we all did, I asked him to watch over my daughter and I promised him that she would always know how much he loved her, how incredible he was. I gave him one last kiss and walked out of his room and waited.


My mom came out shortly after, I honestly don't know why, if she needed a few minutes, if my brothers thought it was best, or if she thought she would have more time to go back in. She asked to hold Izabella, I placed her granddaughter in her arms. Shane came out only a few minutes later and wrapped his arms around my mom. I only heard the words "hes gone." I had never known what heartbreak looked like until I saw my Mother's face the moment her first born told her that her husband was gone.

November 3, 2010, around noon, maybe a little after, my Daddy got his wings. It had been 3 days since I last heard his voice, and it already felt like a lifetime...


I cannot tell you much about the wake and funeral. I was in a daze. We all were. I knew it would be a long time before any of us were able to breathe again.

Thanksgiving was the next time our family would be together, the first time we would be without our dad for a holiday. It wasn't easy, Christmas came next, it was even harder. I remember watching my mom in those 2 months following my dads death, wishing I could take her pain her away.

Then came the day after Christmas, a bright spot in what seemed like an endless night...