Its just me @icanfeelyouallaround - Tumblr Blog

my favourite animal is when i remember what i'm capable of.

When I think about Zoomies story, I’m so thankful I get to be her safe place to land.

My mom got Zoomie when she was 8 weeks old. Zoomie lived in a uninsulated garage tied to a wall with people who screamed at her for making noise or knocking over her water bowl. She lived like that for 5 months before my mom decided to let my brother and his wife take care of her.

Then Zoomie lived with my brother and his wife until their separation when she was 4. For the next year she would be with my brother, left alone for days on end, unsure if he was coming back and unsure if she would get food/water. Finally my brother moved in with my dad and step mom who loved and cared for her for a whole year. Spoiling her. Giving her all the love and attention she could ever want.

Then my dad died.

My step mom said that Zoomie was too much to care for. She couldn’t do it and my dad was the one who cared for her. So I rearranged my life, right then and there. And even if my brother is able to get his life together enough to take care of her, she always has a home with me.

The day I knew it was all over, was January 13th. I was visiting my dad at the hospital and the entire day people were coming in and trying to discuss his prognosis and he never moved. He was so tired he couldn’t even eat anything.

I couldn’t stop crying.

January 15th he was more alert but the doctors came in and explained everything. He was so undyingly optimistic that it killed me, every step of the way. I remember being pulled into the hallway by his doctor and her explaining more. Then she said “days” and I couldn’t breathe. She discussed DNR with him, which he signed. Then they brought in the “hospice” lady who pulled me out and I remember the nurses running up to me to hold me up. I heard a scream and I’m pretty sure it was mine.

January 16th, we took him home. We sat down with the nurse and again his thought to just “walk around” was killing me.

17th and 18th were filled with family and friends

Then the last good day.

January 19th. He was so tired from being up for 12+ hours so he was in and out. But we laid down, watched movies, ate ice cream, laughed and just spent time together. The best last day with my dad.

The 20th he had his procedure and used what was left of his strength to get himself inside the house without my help. Then he laid down and didn’t really get up again.

That night he went to bed in his room, he closed his eyes and I never saw his eyes again.

He died around 3 in the morning on January 24th.

I miss him. Every minute of every single day. And man this one sucks.

mournfulroses

Fyodor Dostoevsky, from a letter featured in "Letters of Fyodor Michailovitch Dostoevsky to his Family & Friends,"

wordx

I want money and books

Hi.

I feel. Dark. Like Ive never seen the sun and my mind is lost because of it.

Does that make sense?

I can’t sleep. My mind doesn’t stop. My mind isn’t my own at the moment and it means it never quiets. A million different thoughts in the blink of a moment and I can’t quiet it.

I haven’t slept.

I’m trying to get better. To be better. Mostly because this is the part where everyone stops checking on you. They stop being concerned by your loss and just move forward and are wondering why you aren’t either.

My mind isn’t my own. It never quiets. It’s never silent. And now the grief is too much. The alone is too much. Every bad thought I ever had about myself is right at the front of my mind and all it does is circle.

It never quiets.

imposer

cyberxbattalion

kundalini33-deactivated20260510

Today, January 24th, I became an orphan. I’m not sure if it counts since I’m an adult but it feels like it counts. It feels monumental and like the kind of thing that changes a person.

I’ve missed him for days as he became this shell of himself. Someone who doesn’t recognize me, someone who was once strong as an ox no longer have the strength to do a simple movement like open his eyes. It’s devastating.

But I think in one last act of love, my dad spared me the shitty parts of caring for someone who is transitioning to the next life.

My dad was in no pain. He breathed on his own until his last breath. He required no clean up in the end. Just some assistance moving. My dad gave me a peaceful ending to his life.

And I feel immensely loved and seen for that gift.

Yesterday my dad whispered he loved me for the last time.