Losing Dad

Dear Diary,

My dad is dying.  There is nothing funny or witty that I can say about it.  Cancer sucks.  I travelled over 2,000 miles to watch him 'pass away'.  Everyone tells me how lucky I am to have this opportunity to say goodbye.  I've said it.  Day after day after day.  Hospice care is not a 24 hour nurse at your house.  It's family doing 24 hour care with a nurse here for one hour, three days a week.  Questions are to a hotline that actually helps only 33% of the time.  I'm the kind of person that has to fix things and I can't fix this.  I try lessening the burden for my sister and step-mom as they provide dad's care.  My chest burns as my brother struggles through his tears . . . dad was the world to him.  Dad no longer understands what is going on around him and the last time he spoke with me in the room was when he asked us all if he was dying.  My brave, younger sister was the one to tell him the truth as we all let our tears flow.  His response to why was, "how the hell did that happen?"  Still my dad to the end.  He's in there somewhere waiting to 'go home.'  We tell him we're ready and we wait.  I lie about my readiness every day because I'd rather lose him than watch him suffer this way. My dad needs some peace.  My family needs some peace.  I need some peace.  Maybe I'm not lying anymore when I say I am ready.  I love you, dad, and I always will.