Trouble is, when you hit the ground running, you're liable to crash into something...
Well, flew to Vegas, last Wednesday made the decision to take dad off of life support.
He was actually semi-lucid enough to understand the ramifications of it all. He didn't see the point of living with no quality of life.
Friday he went to hospice..we spent 12 hours a day at his bedside, mostly watching him sleep.
We tried to wake him up on Sunday (Christmas) before we left, but he wouldn't wake, just groggilly said OK when we said we were going.
Dad died this morning.
I'm still so worn out from it all...worked the next morning at 05:00 and then drove the following day to Tulsa to finalize some stuff for my new job.
The hospice called me while I was getting my pre-hire physical.
I just want to curl up in a ball and collapse, you know?
I don't think I can get out there for any of the "sevices" if you want to call it that.
He didn't want a funeral, wanted to be cremated.
We arranged for the cremation, he's going to be burried at the veteran's cemetary in Boulder City, NV.
Why does this all make me feel guilty?
This all just sucks.