I am another daughter seeking hope. My dad died Friday, April 20th, 2007 at home with his family. I watched his weight fall dramitically, I watched his once healthy appetite become non-exsistant. I talked to him, cried with him, sang with him and slept near him. With my step-mother, I bathed him, changed him, shaved him and in the end, diapered him. I can't tell you that death came easy for his family, even with all the pain he was in. I watched him falter for 8 monthes with Liver cancer. We ( his family) know that he is in a better place, we know his is no longer in pain. He have repeated the words over and over for 2 days. And those words do help some.
While my three kids are older, they will never really know Grandpa. My youngest is only 7, but she holds him in her heart. Her innocent, kind words fill me with hope. Driving away from the house my dad once called home, with tears spilling onto my cheeks and shirt, my little girl said "don't worry Mom, now we don't have to leave him here when we go home, he can be with us there too".
The cancer robbed my dad of everything he was in life. Cook, gardener, chauffuer to his wife, painter, math whiz and so much more. But it taught me that life is precious. More so than I ever thought. Good luck. Appreciate every second you have. Write his words down. Remember his jokes. My dad jokes helped us laugh together Friday night. Come back often. I don't normally post, but just reading helps me.