Moving Forward

I got up this morning, my stomach said to eat something so, I did. I saw nothing I wanted, or needed to do so, I went back to bed. I laid there thinking about what my Dad would want me to do. I just wish he could have told me, before he passed. I wonder if he can see how I have been suffering without him, and if my actions are upsetting him. I only eat when I feel sick but, I really don't want to. My zest for life is gone and I wander around in a daze. I wish I had someone to talk to. My "so called family and friends" do not exist so, I feel I have to figure this out on my own. Judging by the past three months, I am not doing a very good job. I have lost twenty five pounds, quit my job, and created more problems, only adding to my grief. My every thought is focused on watching my Dad die, and not being able to do anything about it. In thirteen days, how could a trip to the hospital for some tests, go to ICU, to Hospice, to a funeral? I am still trying to understand and accept these facts.