Tell us about a time when you had to choose between two options, and you picked
the unpopular choice.
When my mother passed a way and the dust settled, dad became very lonely. He went to have coffee and met a couple of ladies. It perked him up some but then a lady he was introduced to made him smile.
She seemed very nice. Pretty and bubbly was a nice way to describe her. What I did notice was how dad’s eyes lit up and this was such a nicer thing to see than the gloom face. My dad never liked being alone, and so it wasn’t difficult for them to date and become closer and eventually he moved into her house.
For almost a year the two seemed very happy until one day the sky fell around him and me. He got the news that he had Leukemia. It had advanced enough that they even gave him his approximate ending date.
What once came out of her mouth as fables, now came out as daggers. I took care of my dad while he was sick and he remained living at her house. As he became worse, she would say terrible things about him behind his back, and soon started attacking me with her words also.
The reason for this was because she had not completely healed from her own loss of losing her husband and now the man she was attracted to was going to die also. To protect herself from more pain, she became the devil in disguise.
It got so bad that I didn’t want to go there. Every time I tried to make things better, she dug me in a deeper hole. I knew that my dad had caught on to what she was doing as her hidden words had made their way out of the closet.
I asked my dad if he wouldn’t rather go home. I told him I could take care of him at home just as well as I could at her house, but he said no. The presence of her being around 24/7 made him feel better. He explained to me to just bite my tongue, as he didn’t want to die alone.
He would rather have someone than no one. This broke me up so much. I hated going there. I tried to ignore her foul mouth and just take care of dad. Although I understood the mechanics of what made her the way she was, it didn’t mean dad and I liked it.
He died in her house. He was laying in a bed and I was laying beside him holding his hand. He looked at me one last time and told me,”I love you.” I am glad I stuck it out, but I wish for his and my sake his fear of loneliness would have been only surface deep.
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