Marleah, since you go to the rose forum, perhaps you know my story? I posted on the conversations side of the rose forum about my dad and his fight against leukemia, which was lost Feb 6 last year. I know how you feel. I was with my dad almost every day for almost 9 months, and before that, it was at least once a week. Talking on the phone many times a day was something we also did. Breaking that habit was hard. You can't turn back time, nor can I. The day my dad died, I had a doctor appt which took me away a "good" 3 hours. I kick myslef regularly for leaving because when I got back, he wasn't able to speak much or long. He managed to say I love you before never being able to speak again. I can't imagine what we could have talked about in the few hours I was gone. I like you, were there for our dad's. I have 2 sisters; one living on the West coast that came out a few times when he was mostly in the hospital and weak; the other, she didn't return his calls and spent his last day going through insurance paperwork. They both have to live with their decisions; as I do mine. I put my own family on hold during those 9 months; but there were days when I had to deal with my family and not go to the hospital to see dad. One day was counseling for my daughter; she'd lost her uncle when my dad was 1st diagnosed, then right after Halloween my ex sister in law (her godmother) died suddenly at 41; so she lost both her aunt & uncle who were married. This particular day dad was at death's door & I didn't find out until later that night. The doctor called to tell me that he didn't think he;d try to save him next time :( By the time I got there the next day, my dad was sitting up eating pancakes lol When you have kids life is hectic. Since you work in a hospital, you know most people having that proceedure do fine. You couldnt see into the future, and know that he wouldn't. You did manage to spend time with him. My dad even though he was sleeping / resting knew I was with him at the hospital; I'm sure your dad did too. You're a good daughter. You found time in your busy life to sit with him. You really should have no regrets; I don't think your dad would want you to. I know my dad thought the world of the care I gave him those months; he told everyone how proud he was of me; and how much I knew about his cancer. Stop being so hard on yourself. Try to focus on the positive. Since you work at the hospital, you probably know that a lot of the patients don't have visitors all of the time. The doctors used to tell me about the difference my visits made; and how some people don't have visitors regularly. You have to grieve, it's going to take time. The other day i found a pic of dad and lost it. I keep 2 photos of us on my desk and made a memory frame for this room; also one for each kid - their's holds a few of his momentos, my son has a watch, his lighter, my daughter has a little plastic frog he had in his car. I have no clue why this pic made me cry when I see these others daily. Did your dad garden? Little things remind me of him. I'll be working in the garden and see a worm from his old house (they are visibly different then the worms down here - I collected them when we moved him down here) or I've been pulling up lilies & daffs getting ready to sell my house. Of course I'm digging blind & from memory. I'll talk to my dad while digging, asking if the sale is going to happen and if I'm doing this for nothing. Next thing I know, I find a jackpot of bulbs. Christmas was especially hard here also. My dad used to buy my kids Hess trucks. I couldn't make up my mind whether I'd continue the tradition - especially since my 21 yr old son is very sensative & also had a close bond to dad - my dad helped me raise him. Since he never had a son, he was the apple of his eye. Anyway, my son couldn't decide on the trucks, so the Sunday before Christmas I asked hubby to pick them up. I decided not to wrap them, nor to make a "big deal" about them. I slid them pretty far under the tree. I was an emotional wreak. I went to the couch crying. All of a sudden I smelled my dad's breakfast - scrambled eggs with Hungarian yellow peppers. It's not a common smell. I realized he was there with me, he was telling me "don't cry". I got through the day knowing I wasn't alone. The next morning, Christmas; I put the CD player on. I have 5 CD's on shuffle, and even though it's on shuffle, it pretty much plays the same every time. This time it started with a song I associate with my dad; Blue Christmas by Anne & Nancy Wilson. There's 2 versions of the song on theses CD's but this song was the 1st to play. I knew dad was again in the house; and I managed to get through the day. Of course I cried like hell when the song came on; but after a good cry I was ready to face the day and try to have a decent holiday. I think that once you slow down and allow yourself to see these little things; you will realize your dad is visiting you too. It's not easy, trust me; but we have to go on for our kids. I don't know how long it's going to take; I don't see it easing any time soon for myself; but I don't think my dad would want me to be down all of the time, especially in front of other people.

This is Mom and Dad on their wedding day in 1955. I love this picture of them. It's been in my photo album forever, so that's a crease on his upper lip from trying to loosen it from the page. Too bad dad was such a jerk. She left him when I was 21 months old and my brother was 3 months old.

What a great remembrance (sp?) for your Dad - of course you miss him. My Mom died last year - 2009 - on November 11. We are headed toward that date & my thoughts are focused on what happened last year. My family experienced a huge reconnection and I will always value the love we have for each other. Good thoughts are good! The best to you & yours. hostapasta

Lovely pictures, all of them. Jasdip, I feel like I know your mom, after seeing the picture when she was sick, and hearing so much about her zippy and fun personality :) Alisande, your mom looks like Julie Andrews! Gazania, my mom still wouldn't dream of leaving the house without earrings that match her outfit. She rarely leaves these days and takes forever to get dressed, but the woman is still put together when she does! I'm so lucky to still have her here and know this is a hard day for many--you have my sympathy, especially you this year, Raven.