The absolute worst day in my calendar is August 25th. It was on August 25th, 1997, I was sleeping around 9:00am. My daughter, who was seven at the time, came running into my bedroom yelling, “Mommy, come quick there’s something wrong with Popop.”
I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs. The dogs were in the backyard and there was my Dad, bent backwards over the seat of the computer chair, not breathing and unresponsive. His lips were purple. I got him down on the floor and started CPR until the ambulance arrived.
They started CPR and took him to the hospital. When we got there, we were ushered into a private room where we were informed that “we did all we could, we’re very sorry.” It took me about two years to get over losing my dad. He was Emalee’s father figure, she was the apple of his eye.
Fast forward to August 25th, 2014…
I had to put my baby to sleep. Complications from diabetes…Diabetic Ketoacidosys. I’m heartbroken. It’s two months and I can’t get over it. If he was human, he probably would have been my soul mate. I don’t even cry, tears just come and keep on going for hours at a time.
Having just put him to sleep at about 3:00pm, I was standing on my front porch having a cigarette when a Sheriff’s car pulled up and promptly handed me “Sheriff’s Sale” papers for my house. My day was complete.