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There is no fear.
My dad was dying fir 8 years
When I got the kids my dad got sick
I was juggling 2 houses
Fighting with abusive toxic people and fighting against dementia and cancer.
My dad hated
Me I was the devil child. But when he got sick I was the only one that would or could do it.
As much as we argued through this time I did it because I did not want him to die alone or in pain.
He had cancer he couldn’t walk he had a catheta. No matter what I wanted him to be comfortable and in as little pain as possible.
He should have died years ago but he was one of the 1 percent that lived more than 5 years with kidney cancer.
I managed him at home no nursing home. And for that I’m happy with myself.
But my dad n I clashed too much alike. I was the bastard that did everything wrong. Couldn’t get ahead in life couldn’t have kids a failure to him.
I lost my jobs because of the kids and the situation with dad. I had no kids Cos I was sick too so all odds where against me.
No matter what I know deep down he was proud of what I had done did him.
But in the end I feel I failed I was mortified even though it was going to happen eventually. I guess I was not ready after all.
The relationship with dad well he and I where together everyday and I slept at his house to make sure he was cared for as mum couldn’t do it.
My siblings did nothing to help at all. Living the dream that’s ok she’ll be right.
I visit dad everyday I sit have lunch or hit chocolate or something I cry everyday I ask him to take me with him.
I’m sick of being everyone’s sucker.
I really miss him.
At least I know what I did for him. The only killer is I feel I failed but it was the hospital that had no duty of care.