Okay so yesterday was March 11th and I took a day away from the page and all the hub bub of daily living. On this day I pretty much shut down and honestly if I was my family I wouldn’t even want to be around me. Four years ago March 11th at 12:12 pm I felt my daddy take his last breath. I am taken back to the day before when he suffered his 10th and final heart attack. I remember the usual…calling 911 and praying that he would make it until they got there. I remember standing by him in that emergency room holding his cold and looking at the color of his skin specifically the color of his ears. As a nurse you are trained to notice the things that take place right before death and I was seeing all of them. He couldn’t even breath but in his last breath before he quit talking he simply said “Take care of your mom”. Little did I know that only a year later I would be doing just that. They life-flighted him to Nashville to Vandy. They immediately put him on a ventilator which was totally against his wishes but we had went against those wishes several times in the past and he pulled through. This time I had a feeling it was going to be different. I just knew in my heart that this was the end. I was never going to get to take my daddy home again. I was correct. The next day the doc called us in and told us only 5% of my dad’s heart was working on it’s own and that if they took him off the vent there was no way it could produce the oxygen and blood flow it needed to. Simply put he would never breathe on his own again. The man who had brought me into life was laying on a bed waiting for me to take his life away. It was in my hands. Do we keep him on the vent or not? What good would it do? Is there any quality to lying in a hospital bed on a vent? He did NOT want that. He would be so disappointed in me if I made that decision. I talked to my mom and we told the doc to take it off. For the next few hours I sat by his side and I talked to him. I told him how much I loved him and that if he was ready to go then I was ready to let go. I told him to go find peace and within 30 minutes at 12:12 pm as I lay my head on his chest I felt his last breath leave his body. He had fulfilled his mission in life. He had raised me to an age where I was finally able to care for myself and my children. He had taught me about life and how to survive. As I sat in that chair holding his hand and rubbing his face I felt tears falling down my cheek and I felt a hole in my heart begin to open up. It felt as if it my consume me for good. Since that day that hole has remained sitting there wide open. It aches to be filled but I know that it will never be. There is no other man in this world that will ever love me like my daddy did. I miss him more than any word could ever describe. Sometimes I think the pain is literally going to kill me. Losing a parent is a very painful experience and I will never tell anyone that it heals because plain and simply it just doesn’t. Maybe a day will come when it doesn’t hurt to breathe and I can smile at memories instead of crying but knowing when or for sure if it will happen is just not possible. All I can say is I was blessed to have had this man in my life for 34 years and I hope that in the next life I am lucky enough to have him close to me again. I love you daddy and I miss you so very much! Rest in Peace.