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during my freshman year of high school, my dad had a massive seizure on december 2, 1992. it left him paralyzed on his right side, unable to speak conherently, and confined to a wheel chair. in about march or april 1993 he came home. so for the next couple of years, my mom, younger sister, and i acted as his therapists. we had to help him with EVERYTHING.
but as time passed he was doing so well and everything was going great. he became a little more independent...able to walk short distances with a cane, do his exercises, take his medications, able to speak a little.... but then in mid april 1996, i came home from school to find his bag and wheel chair at the bottom of the stairs. i knew something was wrong. i found out he suffered a massive heart attack. he was in the hospital for 2 weeks, until he died on april 26.
i never went to any counseling or anything like that during this whole thing or even after. part of me was really mad at God because i felt like he was toying with my family. we(my dad, mom, sis and myself) all worked so hard to get him to this point and then its all taken away. i was so mad with everything and everyone. but part of me also realized that those last couple of years were probably the best(and hardest) of my life. but i learned so much. i cant tell you all how much i learned if i had two lives to live. am i still mad with God...yes. but i have learned to accept and adapt to things. the holidays, his birthday, father's day are still very hard for me. sorry for the long reply
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