Some times flies even when you're not having fun

Fly away, far away from here

It's hard to believe that it's been exactly one year today. I'm just kinda going through the motions today. Not horribly upset, not happy, just kinda here. I miss my daddy a lot.

So I have decided that today I will relive this even one last time. I will keep it here and not continue to carry it on my shoulders every single day. One year ago today I watched my dad's last breath. I held his hand during his last moment here for this life. I looked around a room full of people that love him and that I truly love. Each one crying for losing a man that in some way or another filled a spot in their heart.

To really get everything out I have to start from day 1. My step-mom Judy knew my dad was sick. She knew it. She pleaded with him to go to the doctor but he wouldn't. She reached out to us to plead as well. How do you beg a 50 year old man who is terrified of what the outcome might be to get a very long camera stuck up there, well you know the rest. My dad was just not jumping on the opportunity to do that. My brother Jimmy and I didn't realize how serious Judy was until she came to tears over it one day. She finally scheduled the exam without him knowing; my dad ended up in the hospital about a week before his exam. My father was diagnosed with colon cancer which had already spread to his liver. Now if you're not too keen on medical things, you might not really know what this means. Or maybe you refuse to understand what it means because you're in denial like me. Yeah it's cancer, yeah it sucks, but at this point all I've really heard are these wonderful cancer survivor stories, so I'm thinking he's going to be ok.

We're all in a hospital room. Me, my brother, my sister-in-law Kelly, My uncle Mike and Judy. We're talking about whatever and I'm sitting on my dad's bed next to him. Out of nowhere my dad bursts out crying and says "I don't want to die." Mike immediately leaves the room and Judy followed out right behind him. I laid my head on my dad's stomach and my brother stood by his side. I have to tell you it didn't even hit me then that he might die. People would say I was so strong and I never cried, but you try admitting to yourself that there is a possibility your dad will die 53. Before you graduate college, get married, have kids, buy a house, etc. The mind just can't grasp the thought, it doesn't make sense, you will go crazy thinking about it.

Over the next 6 months to a year my father was the poster child for chemotherapy. He did so well and the thought of my dad leaving this world anytime soon was drifting far, far away. Along this time period I visited with him a lot more and checked on him a lot. There were times he forgot we had plans and it broke my heart at the time. Now I see what he went through and that a constant fear of dying may have something to do with a scattered brain. He also forgot my birthday that year, again broke my heart but I, of course, held no grudge.

After a year of successful treatment he was given the following summer off of treatment. I remember being happy and worried when he told me. Months earlier he told me a story of a woman he had gotten to know that was going to his doctor for treatment. She was able to take 3 months off of treatment as well. When she came back in to start back up her chemo her cancer had completely taken over. She couldn't eat and had dropped down to 80 pounds. Part of me was excited that he was doing so well; that he didn't need it. The other was scared that he would share the same fate. I made sure they'd always check up on him , and he said they would. Throughout this time I could see my father's struggle. God knows he handled it so well. I am so so so proud of him. His feet swelled, he couldn't feel his fingers or his feet, he couldn't eat or drink anything too hot or too cold, he lost his hair, he got severe acne, among other things. Sometimes the highlight of his day was to walk to the edge of the driveway, something Judy made him do so he would get out of the house. He was majorly slowed down now that I look back at it, but at the time he would have never let on that he was, he never once complained. The only thing he expressed was hating the way people looked at him or not being able to enjoy a crown and coke. This in turn also made me thing he was ok. Throughout most of this my dad worked 2 jobs. One during the day and the other from 11-3 am. My dad kept the way he was really feeling a secret from me. I never knew when he quit his second job or when he started working mostly from home because he couldn't do it anymore. When I talked to him he always told me he was fine.

It was like one day things turned and it turned fast. I remember in February we went to dinner at Montgomery Inn to celebrate my cousin Laura's husband's superbowl victory. Seeing him that night was a slap of reality to the face. My daddy looked terrible. Never mind the acne or the limp he walked with; his face was sunken in. Again you can't really face reality I buried what this meant.

March came around and we had a trip planned to Gatlinburg for my dad, Jimmy, and Judy's birthday. Now Gatlinburg is my dad's favorite place next to Aruba and Key West, and I guess most tropical places. Let me just say that I am really happy that my father got the chance to visit there one last time. I however was horribly ill. My cold/flu/virus started about a week before we planned to leave so I did everything I could to get better; I knew I couldn't be around my dad with a cold as his defenses were low. In the end I was still sick when it was time to go and I wasn't able to join them on the trip. I had no idea that he only had 19 days left on this earth.

I was also very busy around this time. I was working full time and going to school full time. I also still thought my dad was working 2 jobs, so I would call him while I was at work to be able to talk to him. On my last call to him he sounded bad. Not sick but his voice was rather high pitched, as if his throat hurt. He said he was loading up the car to go give a presentation at work. He didn't have his bluetooth with him so he told me he would call me later. That night my step-sister Megan called. I was on my way home from dropping off my best friend Jenna; we had went to the Arogsy. Megan told me my dad was in the hospital, Judy had asked her to call me. At this point my heart broke. It was as if I had to stop lying to myself . I knew there was something really wrong. I immediately called Jenna and she came running to meet me. I woke my brother up and we rushed to the hospital. Judy was waiting alone in the ICU. I think I knew what was going to happen when I saw her face. My poor poor step-mom. Her face was red, eyes were bloodshot and still wet. What a horrible night. What a horrible feeling. What I saw when I went back to see him that night I won't share with you. I will say, even with the amount of suffering I saw him enduring he still told the nurse he was fine and he tried to carry on normal conversation with us. He actually seemed offended that we looked so sad. He called us a bunch of sad sacks :o)

He was taken back for some tests and when we saw him again he was highly drugged but whatever helped him from the way he was feeling before was ok with me. They had him lay on his side and as soon as he saw me he yelled "Tree-Tra!!" in the same upbeat tone he always has; since I was a little girl. It took every ounce of strength in my body not to cry. I wanted so bad to cuddle up next to him as I did when I was a child. Instead I smiled at him and he smiled back at me and closed his eyes. I will never forget the way he smiled back at me. Through all the pain I was feeling it warmed my heart, like he has always been able to do when I've been sad throughout my life, he made me feel better if only for a moment.

I excused myself from the room and made my way back to the waiting room where Jenna and Kelly were waiting. I lost it. The flood gates opened. My strength went out the door. Why was this happening to my father? I wasn't done. I didn't grow up with him under my roof. I didn't see him as much as I wanted to. I worked so hard in school. I never quit. I always thought I was doing that more for him than myself. I lost time with him by always being so busy with stupid stuff that didn't matter. He couldn't be leaving now! God how ridiculous is that feeling!? Why?, isn't even a fit enough question to ask.

We stayed that night until about 4:30 in the morning only to return bright and early the next day. I have to say it was all kind of a blur, the next day I remember is March 31st, my brother's birthday and opening day for the Cincinnati Reds. I went to work in the morning but left in time to watch the first pitch with Jimmy and dad. I brought them both t-shirts that my cousin Tammy (who had been more than amazing to us throughout the whole week and the months following) gave me on fountain square earlier that day. I was excited to see that my dad seemed to have more strength, he was talking more, eating and drinking on his own, getting up and walking to the bathroom and was in better spirits. I helped him with his lunch and played nurse Amy. He was still heavily medicated so he dosed off a lot. At this point I wasn't hearing from anyone whether he would be ok or what was going to happen.

That night I stayed with him until Judy got back from going home and getting cleaned up. At one point he sat up and told me to give him a hug. I gave him a big hug and a kiss and that was our last. I didn't get to see him the next day because of school. Wednesday I walked in the room and he was basically comatose and there was talk of moving him to hospice. I have no idea how i dealt with this. No clue. From this point on I refused to leave his side. I refused. I hoped he know that I was always right there. I felt like I wasn't present enough when he was sick and now that I could no longer speak to him I just wanted him to know that I wasn't leaving him.

It was amazing the outpouring of support our family gave us. After he was moved to hospice most of our family was there the whole time. My cousins all came in, of course my step siblings were all there, everyone that meant a lot to my dad was there at some point. At one point he woke up a little bit, enough to motion for water, I put water on his lips and my cousin Laura made a simple but very sweet reassuring statement, she said I was doing a good job. I was trying so hard to do a good job and that felt good to hear. At the end of the day everyone there loved my father. Everyone there was heartbroken too. Everyone there wanted to do what they could to ease the pain for each other somehow.

That night I slept on three plastic chairs lined up next to each other along side his bed. I held his hand as I slept. Judy slept on the other side on a cot, my uncle Mike slept upright sitting on a chair, Jimmy slept on the floor, Kelly and Judy's sister slept in a waiting room. In the middle of the night after a bathroom break I had a major meltdown. I remember laying back down in my makeshift bed, taking my dad's hand in mine and just breathing in and out with him. It was like I was breathing him in with me. His life, his love and his spirit. I thought if I did this, every time I was upset I could breath deep and feel him with me. I began to cry uncontrollably. Jimmy asked me if I was ok and usually a "yes" would come out, followed by sucking up my sorrows and deep breathing but this time I just said, no. I wasn't ok by any means. The hurt I felt in my heart is indescribable and you couldn't possibly understand it unless you endure it yourself. My daddy was going to leave me at any second. He had been non-responsive for a long time and I was coming to terms with what was going to happen. Jimmy came to my side to comfort me which made me cry harder. All I could say was "I don't want him to go." Judy came and took my brother's place and, let me just say, that woman is most definitely an angel. She gave me the type of comfort my mother's mother used to give me as a child when I didn't feel good (I believe she was an angel as well.) I love her so much for the comfort she gave me that night and for the comfort I'm sure she gave my father through his struggles he endured in the last two years. I stopped crying and fell asleep with my dad's hand in mine.

I don't remember a lot about the next morning but I know a lot happened. I couldn't tell you in what order they happened in either. I know his best friend visited, I remember how devastated he looked. He too had been told by my father that he was fine. I remember my dad's uncle, who is a priest, came to give the final blessing (which was already done once before he was moved to hospice.) Let me just tell you, for me, this was the worst experience. One, because my dad wasn't dead. He was still in there. He was a fighter and never came to terms with the fact that he was going to die. I wouldn't doubt that he heard that prayer and was pissed that people were "giving" up. Also, for me, hearing it being said was the worst possible thing. It was so final. It was 2 minutes of telling a family that their husband, father, brother, uncle and friend was going to die, very soon in the form of prayer. It made me physically ill. I've always had mixed feelings on religion and at that point I was pissed. I wanted to tell these priests who were talking about "it's his time, he's going to a better place, blah blah blah blah" to shut the fuck up. Yeah it's harsh and maybe I'm going straight to hell for it but a better place is here, with us, without cancer. How about a better place is with his wife, or where he can be at my wedding, where he can meet his grand kids he'll have one day. Maybe enjoying life with the people he loves is a BETTER place you assholes. I can't describe to you the furry I felt toward these priests. I was seconds from getting up in the middle of the prayer and leaving the room. Of course my opinion has changed a bit now but at the time I was beyond mad. Thinking about it makes me pissed all over again.

At another point in the day the doctor called us into a room to basically tell us he was going to die at any second. That with colon cancer you can be going along "fine" and one day you just hit a corner and it goes down, and it goes down fast. Lovely.

Jenna also peeked her head around the corner at one point in the day. I have to say I don't know if I would have made it through this without her. She was right by my side the rest of the day.

My dad's last hours brought our whole family to one room. Because my family is very loving, caring, and above all we're funny. The depressing final blessing was replaced with conversation between friends and family, along with occasional laughter. I believe that if my dad was still hearing us that this may have been comforting to him.

As his breathing became slower, Judy shifted his body toward hers and rested his head on hers. She talked to him softly as I sat on the other side of him still holding on to his had. I couldn't tell you everything she said because I couldn't think, I knew it would be only minutes or seconds. I remember "It's ok Jimmy" "I'm going to be ok" "Amy is going to be ok" "Jimmy is going to be ok" "It's ok to let go." As she spoke I rubbed my father's finger on my cheek, to anyone else this may have looked crazy but it was the only comfort I felt. I was comforting him and he was comforting me. All the while his breaths got further and further apart. I looked up and watched him with Judy's comforting voice in the background. The world slowed and seemed to stand still as I watched my father's last second last second on this Earth with us. My world crashed down around me. The days leading up to this second had not prepared me for the feeling that came over me when it actually happened. I immediately buried my head in Jenna and let all my grief out. My mind was numb and I cried harder than I ever had before. I looked back at my step-mother, still an angel in my eyes, her eyes were wet and her face was red, she gave me a miserable attempt at a smile and I gave her one back. The look said everything. We didn't need any words. It was over. His suffering was over. I was sorry for her and she was sorry for me. To me it said we loved each other and I was not a bit upset with her for how things happened. I knew she did everything in her power to help my dad. It was ok. I was going to be ok. My pathetic smile at Judy reassured her of that.

Before I left the room I stood and went to my daddy, I cried and told him I would make him proud of me. Something I strived all of my life to do. I can't tell you the feelings I have for my father. I always wanted to show him that even though I didn't live under his roof and I didn't see him as much as I would have liked, that he made me who I am. That I loved him more than I could explain. One day I was going to show him, he left before I could.

This experience has taught me so much. And I've expressed those things throughout my blog and will continue to do so. I do want to leave this behind me. I will never forget it, but I want to replace this memory with all the wonderful memories I had with my dad before cancer, before he was sick. Memories like...

The flicker fly. Oh the flicker fly. Little did me and my young cousins know the origin of the name "flicker" fly. My dad would put his hand on a table and flick his middle finger back and forth saying "It's the FLICKER FLY!! It's gonna get ya!!" and then lung his "flicker fly" toward us as we ran screaming.

The glass eye. My poor cousin Kathryn believed this story well into her 20's. My dad has us convinced when we were little that he had a glass eye. He would put his hand over his eye, hit himself in the back of his head (to pop his glass eye out into his hand), ball his hand up into a fist, pretend to put the eye in his mouth, and then use his tongue to make the side of his mouth bulge out, which we thought could only be the "glass eye."

All the funny stories my dad and uncle would tell us. They tried to get us to believe everything and most of the time we did. I remember when my aunt was pregnant with my cousin Amanda we were curious of why her belly was so big. My dad told me, as I was eating watermelon, that she ate a watermelon seed and a watermelon was growing in her belly. Needless to say I was extra careful not to eat any watermelon seeds for years to come.

Numerous unforegettable nights at camp. I can't thank my dad enough for this camp. I had so much fun with him, my cousins, brother, uncle, and everyone there. Campfires, boating, wave running, skiing, tubing, manhunt, the festival across the river, the band we'd have come out, the night that all the kids were in the camper talking about "blow jobs" and everyone got in trouble but me because my dad drank too much to remember what had happened the night before.

Crown Royal = Medicine. That's what my dad always called it! What are you drinking dad? My medicine :o)

I'll never forget the story he always told me. He always sounded so happy when he told me. He said he was coming back home from a business trip. I was 3 or 4 years old and my mom brought us along to pick him up at the airport. I was wearing pretty little dress with my hair curled and in pig tails. He said when he came out of the tunnel I was standing there, eyes wide open, gripping a railing, jumping up and down yelling "daddy, daddy!" He said he came to me, put down his breifcase, and i gave him a huge hug, all while everyone around was watching. That story will always make me smile.

I'll remember "I don't go for that" He always said that to something he didn't approve of.

I'll remember him scaring the crap out of Laura's son DJ with the talking Christmas tree. I know it will be hard when I have kids because he was always so funny with kids. Yeah he kind of tortured them. But he always played tricks on us when we were little and they were funny and we turned out just fine.

I will never forget his laugh. He had the funnest laugh. It always mad me laugh.

I'll never forget our Christmas shopping dates which always meant the world to me.

Always have been, always will be...

I remember going to work with my dad all the time. I had fun playing office :o)

I will never forget my dad listening to Randy Travis albums in his old house. I loved country music then and still know all the words to most of his songs. Forever and Ever Amen will always be a song that makes me melt and brings me right back to my daddy.
Gatlinburg!Fishing in Gatlinburg

I'll never forget our vactions to Casa Mar in Siesta Key! We stayed in this condo!

My florida trip to Sea World with my daddy. I was showing off the killer whale stuffed animal I got. My dad was showing off his socks! :o)

Bowling will always remind me of my dad. I love bowling too. I remember when I was a little girl and I was afraid of thunderstorms my dad would tell me that God and the Angels and my grandpa were just bowling. The thunder was the sound it made when they got a strike! Now thunderstorms make me smile. It was thundering last night. How appropriate.

Peek-a-Boo!

The Hogan Family Crest. My dad was really into learning more about what part of Ireland we originated from. My brother got this tattoo as a memorial.

Ronnie Milsap, another country singer that will always remind me of my dad. Smokey Mountain rain always reminds me of him.
It's weird that this is kind of a symbol of death, before I knew it was it made me think of flying away and I would go to my dad's grave and pick on up and blow all the needles into the wind.

How weird is this?! As I was going through all of his old photos and report cards, this was written on the back of a photo of him. It looked like probably a 3rd or 4th grade picture of him. The only thing I can make out is Jimmy 2 God.

How mischevious does he look!?

My dad, uncle, and grandfater whom I don't remember. He died when I was about 3 or 4. Funny thing is I have one of those really cloudy memories of his funeral though. I remember asking how he died or why he died and my dad told me that he ate a bowl of boogers and never to eat my boogers or the same thing might happen to me. Seeing the pattern of silly stories?

My two angels.

I will never forget him, and the way I felt when I was with him. No one can replace a daughter's father. No one can fill that void they leave when they are called from this world. I don't think it will ever be easy in the moments that it will be important to have him there but I know I can make it through. I have great family and friends still here that support me. I had a father that handled everything he went through with strength and reslience, and I will do the same. Like father, like daughter. :o)

But only in moderation....