In this life, LOVE is most important.

I am sitting by my father’s bed listening to his labored breathing. His vitals are no longer good; his heart is working over time, he’s feverish, clammy. He can’t eat or drink. He hasn’t opened his eyes at all. His nurse said he has a couple days, no more than a week. My mother and I are giving him morphine around the clock so he remains comfortable.

A chaplain stopped by today to talk with me and my mom; we all stood and prayed over my dad’s bed.

I’ve learned a lot about life the past month that I’ve been home with my father. I’ve learned who cares about me and who doesn’t. I’ve learned to make sure I let my emotions out in a healthy way. Mostly, I’ve learned what’s important in this life: love. As my father is lying here dying, the only thing I can give him is my love. I can no longer feed him, give him a drink, bathe him, talk with him, laugh with him, or even watch TV with him. All he can accept from me at this point is my unconditional love for him. I could be offered a million dollars to leave his side, and I wouldn’t.

Watching a parent die, especially being as young as I am, is one of the hardest things I’ll ever go through. Dementia has stolen everything from him over this past year; the father that I grew up knowing has been gone a long time. I feel so many emotions. I’m sad that I’m losing my father. I’m angry, very angry, that I’m losing my father. I’m thankful that I’ve had him in my life this long, but I hate that I won’t have him longer. I’m anxious. I’m nervous. I don’t want him to stay in pain, but I also don’t want to let go. If I ever get married, he won’t be there to walk me down the isle. He won’t be at my college graduation. I won’t be able to give him a grandchild. He can’t answer questions I have about my car. He won’t be able to make sure the first house I buy is in good shape. He won’t be able to do any of the things that I need from him. The most terrifying of all is that he can’t ever tell me that he loves me again.

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Misty Dawn

My name is Misty Dawn. I’m twenty-five years old. I lost my father in 2015 due to dementia. I'm an only child dealing with a mother that has Borderline Personality Disorder. I am a full-time student pursuing a social work degree and a full-time caretaker for the elderly. I'm passionate about art, writing, and making the world a happier place. These are my thoughts, dreams, fears, passions..

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