My dad died this morning. He had a heart attack.
I was in the shower getting ready for work this morning when my mom knocked frantically on our door. The Hubs jumped up and went to answer it. I continued on my merry way with my shower, thinking, not that nothing was wrong, but not hugely concerned. My family is a bit meladramatic, so I don't get extremely concerned when someone frantically knocks on my door or calls repeatedly.
A few minutes later The Hubs came back in and came into the bathroom. "It's not good news, I'm afraid", he said. I opened the door of the shower, feeling as though my face were ghost white, "What is it?"
The Hubs is not an drama king. He doesn't make something out of things that are nothing. I knew it was bad news.
"We think your dad is dead."
I didn't believe it. I carried on with my shower, denying it was possible. I hurried though. I told The Hubs "I know CPR!"
What a ridiculous, stupid statement. Why do we say ignorant things in times of trouble?
We went to next door to my mom's house. My dad was lying in the floor of his room. He was, quiet unmistakeably, no longer with us. The EMT's were there. The coroner was on his way.
My world fell away. I was very much my dad's baby. I can't believe he's gone.
I was here when the coroner okay'd his removal from the house. He had scratched at his face trying to get breath. He couldn't breathe. My mom didn't want me to, but I made them let me see him. I kissed him on his forehead. He was so cold. I know my dad wasn't in the shell anymore, but the shell is what I knew my dad to look like.
I have no pictures of my dad that I'm aware of. I have no video of him. I know he's with me now in spirit, but I'm so devestated knowing I'll never hear his voice again. I'll never smell his unique "daddy" scent. He'll never see me graduate from University. He'll never meet my children and they'll never meet their Papa.
My heart aches. I miss my Daddy.