I'm afraid my father is dying.
I spent 5 hours with him tonight after his release from the hospital. He is dizzy, nauseous and...bleeding. Profusely.
I'd wanted to spend the night at his place just to be sure that he is all right...but the heater is turned up to 88 degrees and my neck is tweeked from the couch. So instead, I'm home...and feeling morbidly guilty.
It's so hard for me to let go and accept that I cannot fix this or in some way make things better for him. He's in pain all of the time. Limited in his ability to get around. And very, very high-strung about his health issues. Even though he claims to be at peace with dying...that there is very little left for him in this world.
But I know differently. And I know that he knows differently too. Which makes it all even more sad.