Today is the 2 year anniversary of my dad dying.
My dad struggled on and off since high school with alcoholism. There were times in my life where he would drink and drink and kind of keep to himself. Then there were times where he'd be sober for years and years.
I don't know when he started drinking again. I don't believe he was doing it while I was pregnant with Annika but since I had a harder time going to my parents' house to visit once she was born (they were hoarders and I couldn't take Annika to their house) I assume he started shortly after she was born. He was stressed about their house going into foreclosure again.
I will never forget my mom telling me my dad was on his way to the hospital and then seeing him confused and unable to speak much. Mom died the day after he was admitted and I was the one that had to tell him she died a full week later. And then he forgot, so I had to go through telling him again as I had requested that the nurses not speak about it with him in case he did forget. I wanted to tell him myself.
He died not knowing how mom died. Her autopsy results came in over 3 weeks after dad died. Dad died after his body could not handle the detoxing from drinking so much and because he had severely damaged his esophagus. He had a feeding tube for 7 weeks and in the end it failed, a day later he died from cardiac arrest as I had requested that the doctors stop trying to save him because I knew that's what he really would have wanted.
My dad was my favorite person in the whole world. We talked, he told me stories and we were always very close. It's still hard to believe that the man that cried with excitement when I told him I was pregnant with a girl (I would have thought he'd want a grandson but he told me he would much rather have a grand-daughter because he liked playing with My Little Pony's and Barbies) and would crack jokes all the time is gone.
This is the video we played at my parents' joint funeral service. It's still hard to watch today...