Don't Do This
Daddy
"Please daddy, you can't die," I cried grabbing a fistful of his shirt and burying my face against his chest.
"There are people to help you through it, baby, you're so strong, and I may not have said it much but I'm so proud of you. You can do anything you put your mind to," He murmured lifting my head and pushing the hair out of my face.
"But you're my daddy. Everything I've been through, you've been there to pick me up if I fell. What will I do without you?" I questioned, feeling so lost.
"You never needed me, sweetie, you're independent. You've always been able to take care of yourself and I don't doubt you'll make it through this just fine," He smiled softly as he stared into my eyes.
You see, my father has liver failure, due to excessive drinking. He went to treatment to get it under control, but the damage was done and the doctor said he had 5, maybe less, days left to live.
My little brother's and sister's have come and gone with my mom to sleep and I'm staying with my dad until my older brother and sister can come from Minneapolis to say goodbye.
"Get some rest baby, we can talk in the morning," Dad promised in a quiet voice.
"'Kay, I love you, daddy. Get some sleep," I whispered hugging him tightly and giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead before climbing into the open hospital bed next to his, with his hand still firmly grasped in mine.
I normally didn't go to sleep at 9:30 pm, but grief and crying had exhausted me beyond the point of protest.
Not too much later the shrill drone of a machine woke me from my restless slumber and I shot out of bed like a bullet. My father's hand was limp and unresponsive in mine as I sunk to the floor next to him in disbelief, but I couldn't let go.
Doctor's and nurse's responded, but it seemed like nobody was in a hurry, or maybe everything was just moving in slow motion to me. They worked around me, but otherwise made no gesture to acknowledge me, they probably knew I wouldn't notice anyways.
I wanted to tell them 'it's useless, I can feel that he's gone' but my throat was so tight that I couldn't say anything. Maybe I wanted them to keep trying to force some semblance of life back into him and tell me it was a miracle.
A broken, pain filled wail filled the rooms and halls of the hospital and it hurt my ears, but it didn't stop. 'Shut up!!' I wanted to tell them. 'You're not the only one hurting.'
only when I noticed the burning in my throat and the pity filled stares from the doctors and nurses did I realize the noise was coming from inside me. When I realized it I shut up immediately. None of these people need to know my pain, because I didn't want there pity.
"There are people to help you through it, baby, you're so strong, and I may not have said it much but I'm so proud of you. You can do anything you put your mind to," He murmured lifting my head and pushing the hair out of my face.
"But you're my daddy. Everything I've been through, you've been there to pick me up if I fell. What will I do without you?" I questioned, feeling so lost.
"You never needed me, sweetie, you're independent. You've always been able to take care of yourself and I don't doubt you'll make it through this just fine," He smiled softly as he stared into my eyes.
You see, my father has liver failure, due to excessive drinking. He went to treatment to get it under control, but the damage was done and the doctor said he had 5, maybe less, days left to live.
My little brother's and sister's have come and gone with my mom to sleep and I'm staying with my dad until my older brother and sister can come from Minneapolis to say goodbye.
"Get some rest baby, we can talk in the morning," Dad promised in a quiet voice.
"'Kay, I love you, daddy. Get some sleep," I whispered hugging him tightly and giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead before climbing into the open hospital bed next to his, with his hand still firmly grasped in mine.
I normally didn't go to sleep at 9:30 pm, but grief and crying had exhausted me beyond the point of protest.
Not too much later the shrill drone of a machine woke me from my restless slumber and I shot out of bed like a bullet. My father's hand was limp and unresponsive in mine as I sunk to the floor next to him in disbelief, but I couldn't let go.
Doctor's and nurse's responded, but it seemed like nobody was in a hurry, or maybe everything was just moving in slow motion to me. They worked around me, but otherwise made no gesture to acknowledge me, they probably knew I wouldn't notice anyways.
I wanted to tell them 'it's useless, I can feel that he's gone' but my throat was so tight that I couldn't say anything. Maybe I wanted them to keep trying to force some semblance of life back into him and tell me it was a miracle.
A broken, pain filled wail filled the rooms and halls of the hospital and it hurt my ears, but it didn't stop. 'Shut up!!' I wanted to tell them. 'You're not the only one hurting.'
only when I noticed the burning in my throat and the pity filled stares from the doctors and nurses did I realize the noise was coming from inside me. When I realized it I shut up immediately. None of these people need to know my pain, because I didn't want there pity.