Don’t wait until it’s too late

These are words that I hear all of the time and see posted on Facebook a lot. For some, they are just words. For me, they have hit close to home twice now.

The first time was in 2005. My father was rarely there for us kids when we were growing up. My youngest sister was only 2 when our parents split so she never had a relationship with Dad like I did. Dad moved to another state and we went years without ever hearing from him or knowing if he was alright. In 2001, I was walking into the hospital to visit my sister and my new niece when I saw my father. Nobody knew that he was even in town until I saw him heading into the hospital. He was there to visit a friend that day, but ended up in my sister’s hospital room visiting his daughter and his granddaughter. He also met his grandson that day. My father had missed my wedding, my sister’s wedding, and the birth of his first grandchild. He was there to meet his second on the day she was born even if he was a few hours late. The next four years were spent with random meetings with Dad. See him at the store or out walking and stop to say hello. He was at the funeral for my grandfather which was the longest chat we had with him since he returned to town.

Fast forward to February 10, 2005. I was driving my husband to work and was just crossing a bridge when my cell phone rang. My mother told me to call her as soon as I dropped Darren off at work. I could tell that something was wrong, and since we had just buried my grandmother (mom’s mom) two weeks earlier, I was worried about Mom. I pulled off the road and told her to tell me what was going on. Her words changed my life that morning. “Your father had a massive heart attack. They don’t expect him to survive.” Somehow I managed to drive Darren to work then drive myself to the hospital where I was immediately taken to my father’s room in ICU. My sisters were both on their way. My aunt, who worked at the hospital, had gone to pick up my grandmother (dad’s mom). I was alone with my dad. I held his hand and looked at the machines he was connected to. These machines were the only thing that was allowing me the time I had with my dad. I remember the doctor coming into the room. Before she could even say a word, I told her my sisters were on their way, and I would like to wait and talk to her after everybody was present. She understood and left. The hospital’s chaplain stayed outside the door of the room giving me privacy, but remaining close by in case I needed him. I held my dad’s hand and just sat there and waited. I sat there as my mom came in. I sat there as both of my sisters arrived. I sat there as my uncle and his family showed up. I sat there when my aunt and grandma came in. I sat there as the doctor came back in to talk to us. “He is 99% brain dead. He is not going to wake up.” We were given the choice of leaving him on the machines that his body was fighting against, or making the choice of letting him go. We had three days to make the decision. Because of that 1% we were not allowed to make the choice immediately. I held my dad’s hand listening to the doctor tell us that my father only had a 1% chance of surviving this heart attack.

I spent three days setting in that ICU room holding my father’s hand. I spent three days setting in that ICU room waiting for a sign from my father that the doctor was wrong. I spent three days setting in that ICU room facing the hardest decision I ever had to make. I spent three days setting in that ICU room as a daddy’s girl being forced to say goodbye to the man she loved more than any man in the world despite the fact that he had let her down at every turn. I spent three days in that ICU room in tears with my heart shattered because I knew that I would never again hear my father say that he loved me or was proud of me.

February 13, 2005, we all met in Dad’s ICU room. Because my grandmother was in the early stages of Alzheimer’s and could not remember if Dad had ever been baptized (dad was adopted also so who knows if he had been before the adoption?), we had the hospital chaplain baptize Dad. Everybody was giving a chance to tell him goodbye. I stood on his right side and held the hand I had not let go of for three days. My younger sister stood on his other side and held that hand. Our youngest sister stood at Dad’s feet. My mother stood nearby but back away from the family a bit. They were divorced, but she this was still painful for her to watch. My grandmother sat in a chair nearby with my aunt and uncle and cousins standing with her. They let us girls have our spots at Dad’s bed while they stayed in the background. We told Daddy how much we loved him. Kissed his cheek. Then we told the doctor that it was time. I leaned down and whispered in my dad’s ear. “I love you, Daddy. You can go home now and be with Grandpa. I’ll see you when I get there.” Fifteen minutes later, Daddy took his last breath. Three days later we laid Daddy in the ground on a cold, snowy February day.

This past Friday, I took flowers to the cemetery to visit my Dad. I had the flowers for a few weeks now, but had never found the time to take them due to having surgery, work, and my niece’s track meets. Friday I made it a point to stop and visit my dad. I am glad I did. I think Dad was watching over my baby sister later that day.

After coming home from the cemetery, I took a nap. (I’m still less than two weeks post-surgery and there is still a bit of pain being dealt with.) I was woken up from my nap by my mother standing in my bedroom door yelling, “Wake up. Your sister has been in an accident. She was hit by a semi.” I do not recall ever waking up so fast in my life.

My sister works for a company that is in contract with insurance companies to drive people to and from their doctor appointments. That day, she had a client in the car that she was taking to an appointment a little over an hour drive away. They were on the interstate when a semi truck decided to move into the lane where my sister was. My sister was unable to get over since there was another car in the third lane. The front driver’s side of my sister’s car ended up under the tire of the semi. Jaws of life had to be used to get my sister out of the car. The client in the car had a massive anxiety attack, but is fine. My sister is also fine despite being bruised and sore.

I have seen the exact same accident my sister had turn out much worse for people. I have seen people killed in that same accident. My sister was lucky. She survived. Her passenger survived. The only casualty that day was her company’s car.

It scared me though. This was my baby sister. This was the little girl that I was so happy to go to school on my very last day of kindergarten and tell everybody was born that morning. This was the little girl who laid in the chair in the living room the day she came home from the hospital and I stood guard over while our mother made her a bottle. This is the same little girl who annoyed me for over 30 years, yet gave me three beautiful nieces and nephews to adore and spoil.

If there is someone out there that is an important part of your life, even if you do not see it at the moment, tell them that you love them. Tell them every day. My mother, both of my sisters, all six of my nieces and nephews, my three best friends, and both of my cats are told every day that I love them. They may roll their eyes at times when I tell them but at least they were told and they know.

On a side note: Something great did happen at my dad’s funeral. I met his biological brothers and sister for the first time. We have since lost his sister, but I do meet with his brothers regularly. His youngest brother looks a lot like him. 🙂

The Adams Family

This family is completely random. The only thing I chose myself was the names. The sims were picked by a roll of the dice. All clothing, hair, everything was random. Traits and aspirations were randomly picked using a generator. This is the first time I have done a completely random family. It should be interesting.

The Founders

Andrew and Angela Adams

Andrew’s aspiration is to be a master mixologist. His traits are lazy, gloomy, and kleptomaniac.

Angela’s aspiration is to be a computer whiz. Her traits are glutton, music lover, and family oriented.

First Generation

Buckley, Bethany, Brenda (Heir), and Braxton

Second Generation

The Parents

 Brenda Adams and Harrison Rocca

The children

Charles (heir), Cooper, and Christin

Third Generation

The parents

 

Charles Adams and Traci Gaines

The children

Damion, Danielle (heir), and Darius

Fourth Generation

The Parents

Daniella Adams and Arthur Ward

Poor Kids

Instead of feeding his hungry daughter, Adam took Brenda outside the gate and left her in the middle of the sidewalk. Poor Brenda!

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While doing some stargazing, Bradley was whacked by the gate when his mother came through. That had to have hurt!

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The Waters Family

Sadly the Waters family has come to an end. I moved my save folder to the desktop so I could do the Beauty and the Beast stuff in a new game without messing up the Waters family. When I moved it back, the family was gone. 😦 I will be starting a new family tonight. I am determined to do this A to Z Legacy.

The Founders

Ariel and Adam

First Generation

Bradley, Brady, Brenda, Bryanna, Bianca, and Bentley

The Heir

Bianca Waters and Daxton Richards

Second Generation

Bianca and Daxton had one cute little red headed, blue eyed daughter named Christina. She was pregnant for twins (boy and girl). I have no pictures of Christina.