This page is dedicated to my father, who died on July 24, 1997 of a form
of ALS (better known as Lou Gehrig's Disease). I always knew my dad to be
a strong person who wanted to take care of his family, not have his family
take care of him, which ironically is how his life ended. He learned that
he really did need the help of others, though it hurt him to even ask.
My dad died about one year after we first started to notice symptoms. This was quite fast, usually the true form of ALS would have taken around three years to get as bad as his did. Doctors could never tell him exactly what was wrong, they basically had to conclude that it was a form of ALS due to the progression of symptoms. A lot of folks with this disease start out losing their ability to speak, but he started out with weaknesses in his legs and arms. He ended not being able to communicate at all, which was one of the most difficult things to accept.
I never thought anything like this would happen to my family, especially to my dad. I guess no one does until it actually happens. It was the hardest experience I've ever been through. My dad stayed in our home the entire time because my mother, the wonderful person she is, did her best to take care of him along with some extremely caring Hospice nurses helping toward the end. When my dad finally passed away, it was more of a blessing than anything, everyone was just happy he was no longer suffering.
Though I would have preferred this not happening at all, it did, and honestly I still don't understand why. I miss my dad every day, but I've been able to deal with it very well because I still feel he is with me. Since I had the time to realize he was getting ready to die, though its always a shock when it happens, I was able to accept it more easily because I tried to prepare myself. The hardest thing to remember is what he went through during the last year of his life. I give thanks every day that he's not suffering any longer. He's finally free.
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