Today marks the 5th anniversary of my dad's passing. I cannot believe it has been 5 years. I miss him every single day and cannot even begin to imagine how different life would be today if he was still around. I read somewhere that losing a father is one of those things that never grows on you...and boy oh boy how true that statement is. I keep thinking of all the fond memories I have of you, as well as all the memories that you are now missing out on. I know, like REALLY KNOW, that you are in a much better place but I still can't help but picture what life would be like with you here. I hope that with each passing day, you see how I am striving to live up to the person you wanted me to be. That in some small way, I am making you proud.
That day still replays in my mind. I can't get the vivid pictures out of my head from the moment I walked into the hospital, carrying mom's lunch...not realizing the unbelievable amount of horror, confusion, sadness, that was about to unfold before me. I can still hear the ladies voice that paged me in (WHY WOULD SHE DO THAT?!? We had to say your name AND room number...clearly she KNEW what I was about to walk into), I can still see several people standing outside your room. I can remember convincing myself I was walking towards the wrong room. It was like the never ending hallway. Not a single face I recognized, yet everyone starring at me, and now walking towards me. Then I saw it. I saw your feet from the curtain. I knew without a doubt, it was your room. I knew something was wrong...but I didn't know what. The blonde lady, who tried sooo hard to be nice, with her perfectly curly hair and soft spoken self, assured me everything was going to be okay (WHY DO THEY SAY THAT?!?) and told me she would take me to THE ROOM where I could find my family. THE ROOM. I remember those words SOOOO CLEARLY. You NEVER want to be taken into THE ROOM. It is basically the room where you can scream, kick, cry, get whatever emotions you have out in private. I guess as a way to keep it away from others. Who knows, all I knew is I did NOT want to go in there...NOTHING good EVER comes from that room!!! And guess what...it STILL doesn't!!!
I opened the door, and there were Mom and Manda. I threw the food at her. I was so mad. Why did they let me walk back there?!? Why did they NOT wait outside for me? Why was everyone NOT saying anything, even though CLEARLY something was going on. I quickly went over to the phone to call Beth. I remember her picking up, and in my mind I was telling her everything that was going on. Yet, I know I just cried. She kept asking me what was going on, where I was, who I was with, etc. Words were flowing in my mind, but NOTHING was coming out of my mouth. It was like if I said it, if I admitted he had coded and things were NOT looking good, then it was true. But if I didn't say it, then it wasn't true and everything could return to normal...only they didn't.
The next hours really are a blur. Slowly all 6 kids and spouses started to show up to the hospital. We were all gathering in THE ROOM, no one talking, even though I think we all wanted to. Finally we got word he was stable enough to be moved to the ICU just down the hall. It was like a sigh of relief. Stable...we ALL heard that word. We were able to move from THE ROOM to the ICU waiting room. There was another family in there when we all moved there originally (I can only imagine this poor family of 3 as we walk in, all 15 of us plus...we probably scared them away!!!) Close family friends started to show up to give support. We were all starting to feel a tad better about the whole thing. We talked about who would stay at the hospital that night with him, and we were all going to take shifts in the next few days so he wasn't alone. After all, when we left him alone for 20 minutes that day, is when they didn't put his oxygen on, leading to this ENTIRE ordeal. I do believe Chuck was going to take the first shift, and we would figure out the rest in the morning...only morning didn't come.
It was now dinner time and we were all starting to get a little hungry. People kept telling us we should eat, and we knew we should. Somewhere in between there, Dad was given a blessing by Rick Fairbanks. I remember going back into his room. He was hardly recognizable with all those cords hooked up to him. He was "there" but not really THERE. It was the hardest thing to walk into that room and see him that way. Originally Chuck was going to give the blessing, but then at the last minute, said he didn't think he could. Thank goodness for Rick, one of Dad's closest and longest friends. He stepped in but I tell you what, I never wanted to hit someone so hard as I did after he said "if it be GOD'S WILL" !!! Those are words you NEVER WANT TO HEAR!!! Growing up Mormon, you were always taught blessings heal, they give a peace of mind, etc. Only this blessing left me PIST! I knew those were the BAD WORDS! Those were the words that were only spoken before someone died. I don't even remember the rest of the blessing. Not a single ounce of it.
Manda and Anthony left to get Taco Bell, (the closest food place) Todd left to go turn off his computer and close up his office stuff, and the rest of us just kinda sat by. No one got far (especially Todd, who didn't even make it to the elevator) before we heard the loudspeakers. CODE BLUE ICU 242 CODE BLUE ICU 242. It was shock. That was dads room wasn't it?!? I will tell you this, in hospital shows they always show you doctors RUNNING to the room...that did NOT happen. People come from every which direction, but not a single one of them ran. Garrett screamed at a couple of them to run. I started to bawl, and some of my other siblings gathered in a tight circle. Todd had Mom go sit in the waiting room with Allison. I was forced in there too. It was in there that I knew he had left me.
I was sitting in that room, and suddenly I was overtaken by something. I have never expressed this except to my family, because it was so personal at the time, and it still is, but this is the EXACT REASON I KNOW THERE IS LIFE AFTER DEATH! I was with someone, but I couldn't see their face. They were showing me this bright room, and it was peaceful and everything was okay. I don't know how long it lasted for in that moment, it felt like an eternity. I wasn't in that hospital waiting room, I was somewhere bright, and happy, and peaceful. An unusually calming feeling came over me. I knew in that instance, dad had left me, yet I also knew he was okay. It was the most incredible thing to experience, and I know he made sure that I could feel and see and understand that for a reason.
Chuck came out and asked for Mom. We all knew what that meant. Suddenly, all the siblings were crying, holding onto each other, and just being there for each other (which lets be honest, is the first time in over 6 years that had happened). We heard Mom scream through the double doors. We saw Chuck punch a door, we heard and saw it all. The security people just let us do our thing, because they KNEW it was their fault this was all happening. It was somewhere in here that I punched my Bishop, called my best friends, and just cried. It was somewhere in here that a piece of my heart left and never returned.
All these details are still so vivid in my mind. A week later, we laid him to rest. I don't remember much from the funeral at all. It was at this point your body goes into survival mode. You just do what you need to do to get through. I would have thought the entire room was empty (Even though apparently it was so full people were standing outside because there were no more seats).
Fast forward 5 years and here I am, still heartbroken, still confused, still extremely unhappy with what happened. 5 years later and I can't write this without tears streaming down my face. I can't enjoy a holiday without going to your grave, without thinking about what you would be doing. 5 years later and I am just trying to get through day by day, with you on my mind, doing what would make you proud and happy.
You were robbed in this life. Your life was cut short by a hospital staff and doctors who made mistake after mistake. I still can't drive by that hospital...I purposefully go around it, I get a very uneasy feeling in my chest when I see it.
I will never get to dance with you at my wedding. I keep postponing it because the thought of doing it without you walking me down the aisle, without a dance with you, just makes me sick. You will never get to meet my fiance, never get the chance to rock my sweet babies to sleep, never get to play ball, or teach them how to be a comedian. These things hurt. They suck. They make me want to punch holes in the walls. You won't be around for graduations, weddings, birthdays, celebrations, etc...and it sucks.
However, I still see you in my day to day activities. I see you in my 3 year old as he tells us jokes and laughs like he is the funniest thing around. He reminds me so much of you, and the fact that he is OBSESSED with your pictures, and memorial dvd remind me that even though you never got to meet his on this earth, you still met him. I hope right now, you are holding my next baby in your arms. Telling them all about the ups and downs of life, expressing love and gratitude, sharing jokes, and giving that baby all the Papa Nelson loves they will need to get through this life.
5 years. I can't believe it. I have had to learn to live without you for 5 years. Somedays I still want to call you for advice. Somedays I even miss your korny jokes. 5 years is half a decade. It's long enough to know that those who say "it gets easier with time" are just crazy people. Because if there is one thing I have learned through this entire thing, it does NOT get easier. Time doesn't make it less painful. Time doesn't take away the heartache, the memories you are not involved in. All time does is continue to pass.
This will be the first year I am not as your grave to say how much I miss you. Just know you are in my heart, my mind, and my thoughts. I love you so much, and I miss every single annoying, weird, cool, embarassing, funny thing about you. Until we meet again one day...
