My father had a sudden stroke almost two weeks ago. The hospital found it was from undiagnosed diabetes. The stroke happened on a Thursday, the 16th. When I recieved the call from the hospital all they could tell me was my dad was not responding and he was very sick. Tears immediately sprung to my eyes and I tried to keep it together as I drove myself to the hospital about 30 minutes away.

My father is my hero. He is one of my best friends. He was a huge part of my life and I love him more than words can say. He wasn't perfect, but he had the biggest heart you could ever imagine. We were very very close. I'm 37 weeks pregnant. I am going to be a single mother, that is another story in itself. My dad was my biggest supporter. It took him a little while to get used to the idea, but he was truly excited to see my first child brought into the world. Just 3 weeks ago he felt my baby kick and he said it was the coolest thing.

When I reached the hospital my aunt and cousin were there waiting for me. I was so scared, by this time I had been contacted by my brother who had found out it was a stroke. I thought, people can recover from strokes, can't they? I rushed up to the emergency room, and I joined my father and his boss from work who was already there with him. My dad was moving around, he recognized me, he grabbed my hand. He gave me the look I had seen many times before. It was the look that said "I mean what I'm saying, and I love you so much". I couldn't hear what he tried to tell me though, his words weren't forming correctly. I'm pretty sure he was trying to tell me to take care of myself, no matter what. His vitals were excellent, and he was able to move all of his left side and even part of his right, although his hand seemed paralized. He tried to speak, and managed to say yes and OK. The next day wasn't so good. He wasn't as responsive, but we thought he was obviously very tired from the stroke. I stayed by his side all day. Saturday was a bit better, he recognized his necklace that he always wore that I had around my neck. I told him I was holding onto it until he could wear it again. He nodded and smiled and said OK. He played thumb war with me, something we did when I was a child and something he did with me everytime something bad came up. I thought he was going to be OK. The next couple days, things slowly got worse. He wouldn't stop pulling out IV's and feeding tubes. He had to have surgery on his ankle, which he broke when he fell from the stroke. That morning he barely opened his eyes. My sister had come into town the day before. She hadn't seen him in 8 years. He recognized her. That was so important.

My dad came out of his ankle surgery with strong vitals, but still his communication was wearing. He was starting to slip, I could tell. Later that night we went home. If I wasn't so pregnant I would have stayed all night, but it wasn't healthy for my baby. I had a bad feeling. The next morning, my sister called to check to see how he was doing. The nurse had decided to do another CT scan because his lack of response was really starting to bother her. I recieved a phone call about an hour later telling me my dad's brain was hemmoridging, and the only surgery they could do to save him would leave him unable to communicate or move for the rest of his life, it was a surgery they did not recommend. I had to make the decision.

It was the hardest thing to do. I couldn't breathe. The decision was easy though. I had had this talk with my father before, and he had always said he would hate nothing more than ending up as a vegetable if his health ever went poor. I had to respect his wish. I told them not to do the surgery.

They moved my dad to hospice that day. The family stayed gathered in that room, holding his hand and telling him that we loved him. I told him I was going to be OK. He had always wanted to make sure that I would be alright if he ever had to leave. I wanted him to know that I would be. My dad's best friend made it into town late and visited my father as my sister and I picked my brother up from the aiport. We rushed back to the hospice room where my brother had a few minutes alone with our father. It was 1:30 AM and my dad was now in a coma. There was no telling when he would go, the hospital had guessed 24 to 48 hours. I told my dad I had to go get some rest, for my baby, but I would be back in a few hours. I told him I loved him more than anything, and that I was going to be alright, that everyone had come now to see him, and that he could go anytime he needed to go. I told him it was ok to rest, to think of the ocean (he loved the ocean..), and then I put my forhead to his, kissed him on the cheek, and I whispered, for the first time, goodbye into his ear. My brother followed my sister and I out to the car to get his things. He planned on staying the night. Two minutes later, one of the hospice staff members came out to the car and began speaking to my brother. I watched from across the parking lot where I was talking to one of the nurses. My brother came back over with my sister and said we needed to go back inside. That's when I knew my daddy was gone.

When I saw him it wasn't real to me. It was just his body. I knew at that moment he was in my heart and in heaven, and not in the body that lay so still on the bed there in that room. I needed to get outside. My brother and sister sat at a table and I walked a few feet down the sidewalk. Out of nowhere, a breeze came in the hot Arizona night. I could feel my dad everywhere. He was there, I knew it. I will never forget that moment for the rest of my life.

The last few days have been a blur. It's been about dealing with bills, spending time with family, cleaning out my father's place, dividing up pictures. My siblings left this morning, and I finally have time to myself. My heart feels so sad. I miss my dad so much I can barely breathe. The only things keeping me going is my promise to my dad that I would be ok, and my unborn child inside of me. It is so hard, and I'm not sure where to turn. I want to be happy about my baby coming, and I am, but I am so very sad I don't know how to balance the two.

I know this seems like an incredibly long post, and yet it is only a fraction of how I feel towards my father and towards this loss. If anyone has advice,,, please.. I am here.