My dad died 2 days ago (June 20, 2003) in the hospital.
For those of you who don't know, he had cancer, and was diagnosed with it in January of 2002. He was doing extremely well (health-wise, not so much cancer-free wise... but they were working on that), and we thought he'd be coming home from the hospital tomorrow. Me and my mom left him in his hospital room (he had gone in for some problems that didn't seem all that life-threatening) Friday, and when we got home, there was a message on the machine telling us to come back because it was urgent. We drove the half hour back to the hospital in the rain, got there and saw a security guard and a bunch of nurses and doctors outside of his room, with the door closed. We knew he was gone (though, my mom pretty much knew as soon as she got the message on the machine... I was scared it was true, but wasn't going to accept it until it was official). A major artery had broken somewhere, and he bled out. Luckily, it was quick, and supposedly painless. They told us he had died about 10 minutes after we had left him. I just wish I had hugged and kissed him goodbye like I normally would have, but he was eating his dinner, and we all thought he'd be fine and be home soon and there was nothing to worry about. We sat in his room with his body for a few hours, which was nice, though. But, it just felt like any second, he'd sit up and start talking to us. It still just feels like he should be walking through the door any minute, or lying on the couch watching tv with us. It's so hard to accept that it's just me and my mom now.
I want my daddy.
