[UncleWede]

Lups and Doc OC, I need some support.

My mom is nearing the end. She gave so much for us kids, working graveyard at the Post Office for almost 30 years. She's in bad shape, and I just HATE going over there now. My wife forces me, and she wants to spend all the last minutes with my mom. She's not the mom I remember, and I don't want those new memories of her in this state.

Sunday we went over, and she was in and out, rambling along whne she did perk up a bit. SERIOUSLY medicated, and my brother even asked me outside to discuss whether she was stroking out.

Like I told my grandfather years ago, I want to tell her it's OK to let go, go to your reward where there is no more pain.

[fun ticket]

Originally Posted by UncleWede

Lups and Doc OC, I need some support.

My mom is nearing the end. She gave so much for us kids, working graveyard at the Post Office for almost 30 years. She's in bad shape, and I just HATE going over there now. My wife forces me, and she wants to spend all the last minutes with my mom. She's not the mom I remember, and I don't want those new memories of her in this state.

Sunday we went over, and she was in and out, rambling along whne she did perk up a bit. SERIOUSLY medicated, and my brother even asked me outside to discuss whether she was stroking out.

Like I told my grandfather years ago, I want to tell her it's OK to let go, go to your reward where there is no more pain.

Sorry to hear it. I have been in the same situation with my mom years ago. I know it is not fun to watch it happen but now, I am glad I was there with her and the family until she passed.

Hang in there.

[Mr Tonka]

Sorry to hear about this Unc.

My mother is not in great health and will be 77 this year. I've been dreading this season of life.

I can't blame you for feeling that way. My father has a similar thought process where as he doesn't want anyone visiting him in those final days. He has lasting memories of his father dying in a hospital room and doesn't want us to have the same.

It's a tough spot, but if you think visiting brings any joy at all to your mother, you should probably listen to your wife.

I hope you find a way to cope and that you mom doesn't suffer in her passing.

[Lups]

Originally Posted by UncleWede

Lups and Doc OC, I need some support.

My mom is nearing the end. She gave so much for us kids, working graveyard at the Post Office for almost 30 years. She's in bad shape, and I just HATE going over there now. My wife forces me, and she wants to spend all the last minutes with my mom. She's not the mom I remember, and I don't want those new memories of her in this state.

Sunday we went over, and she was in and out, rambling along whne she did perk up a bit. SERIOUSLY medicated, and my brother even asked me outside to discuss whether she was stroking out.

Like I told my grandfather years ago, I want to tell her it's OK to let go, go to your reward where there is no more pain.

About three weeks before he died, i took my dad to a routine check up (the only we managed to have at the cancer clinic, i just love calling that moment a routine check up). At a traffic light he turned towards me, took my hand and apologized for causing so much work for me.

I fucking lost it. I screamed at him to go fuck himself, that he was my dad, my mentor, my friend and the most epic person i know, and that it is my honor and my duty to be there for him. I told him in that high pitch voice that went up, up, up and up on the way that i loved him and that i would take every second i can get of his time.

It is not easy to watch the person who has always been there for you die. The personality changes some have are horrible, the wait is scary and the thought "I'm next" hits hard.

That all said, it is worth it. Visit, tell her even if she is asleep your favorite memories of your time together, cry. One of my friends said to me when her mom was dying that it felt wrong to cry in front of her when nothing was happening to her but to her mom and for once i managed to get a good advice out of myself: It is not enough to love someone, it's everything if you can let them know it too.

You will forget the horrors of the last few days, for sure she isn't the same person who raised you but nobody is taking those memories away from you. As bad as it gets, hold her hand and tell her about the times that made her so special to you. Be proud that she did such a good job with you.

I'm sorry you're experiencing this, and please let me know if i can help you in any way.

[335e92tx]

Sorry OP - enjoy the time and hang on to memories while you can. I lost my mom almost 6 month ago - I was in the same city and would routinely see her almost 2x per day for the previous 5 yrs. In the last 18 mnths, the companion I had decided she could not hang and elected to move 2K miles away. The last 12 months with my mom was good. She was at an independent facility but I was a mile away and had wireless cams in place. Move her to a skilled nursing facility (in another city but close my sister) right before Christmas. She lasted 3 weeks - she would have be 80 this jul4.

I guess it was for the best. ..

[TXSTYLE]

This subject is very dear to me así am the primary caregiver for my beloved Grandmother who is currently 103, but in great health overall. But she recently came do with pneumonia which was frightening. It put a lot into perspective including talks with Hospice.
I believe this service is invaluable to families and definitely should be considered in such difficult and emotional times.

I don't what your faith is, but my faith and experience compels me to say, seek spiritual guidance and pray for strength, peace and direction... I believe there are very few here my age or older except yourself. At middle age, life becomes more about "time" and mentoring others. I am confident you will make the best decision for your loved ones.

[Joekerr]

Ahh, I'm sorry to hear this - I wish I read this before making some more poultry jokes.

I was in this situation a few months ago to a degree, though it was my grandfather and not my parents. It was really tough, he had stroked multiple times and was completely out of it. Didn't have any use of the left side of his body and didn't know who he or anyone else was. Still lasted 4 years.

And I always didn't like visiting him - it wasn't the papa I remember. And I knew he would hate being here in that condition if he knew it, just the type of person he was. So it was difficult visiting, but one thing I always remember is that he was always appreciative and didn't want you to go at the end...even if he didn't know who you were.

I think that we don't always appreciate what it must be like, living in a home / hospice / LTC 24/7 and not having the freedoms we used to. To have to rely on visitors rather than go visit. I think they really treasure visitors - it is a break from the monotony and I would encourage you to go. For her, not for you.

And I will say this - while you remember the last days, they will fade in comparison. What you will remember most is the good times, the earlier memories. Those won't be erased.

It's a tough time, and don't feel guilty for not liking to see your mom this way, nobody should like / want to see their parent like this. But visit anyways.

Hang in there!

[Lups]

Originally Posted by Joekerr

Ahh, I'm sorry to hear this - I wish I read this before making some more poultry jokes.

Timing is everything, bad timing sometimes is priceless. i bet he laughed his ass off reading it, and it gave him a minute to think something else than the sorrow he is experiencing. I mean, it is kind of a compliment to be known as the chicken petter.

[Axius]

Sorry to hear Uncle Weeds. Shit like that is tough. I remember my grandmother being on hospice when I was younger, and just watching her slowly deteriorate while I was young didn't really make sense, and it still doesn't. I hope that she can find peace and let go and be at peace.

I don't know about most people, but honestly I hope at some point in the future I will be able to dictate whether or not I would want to continue living or not. It's grim to think about, but honestly, I've seen many loved ones suffer and for what reason?

Apologies for the rant, but surround yourself in good spirits and while it's tough, you've got support here and we care about you bud. God speed man and hopefully things work out in all your favors.

[UncleWede]

She's still at home. Two of my brothers live there, and one of the grand daughters spends her half-time there. So it's not so much a Hospice care center, although she has spent some time in one of those care facilities during some surgery recovery.

Joekerr dude, don't worry about teasing me or my chickens (as long as it's teasing from afar )

[BMW F22]

It's tough to be in this position. On the one hand, because she is so heavily medicated and is reliant on medicine, perhaps it's best to pull the plug/to let go. On the other, pulling the plug would essentially be killing someone. If she's lived a full life, then she shouldn't suffer towards the end. It just sucks that with old ages, the body and mind are just trying to survive. Sorry to hear that your family is in this situation.

[kscarrol]

Wede,

went through this with my dad a couple years ago. There is no easy way to watch your mom/dad decline and be in that state so your feelings are completely natural. As my dad declined it was very difficult to visit and see the man I worshiped as my hero rolling around in bed in pain and speaking drug induced gibberish. Like your mom, we did hospice at home which did make him more comfortable to be in a familiar environment.

I lived the closest so I spent much more time with him as he declined than my brothers. Often that was really more to support mom than to visit dad but I felt like I had to be there. While it was hard, now that he has passed I am SO glad I was there, even as ugly as it was!

Hang in there man!

[MrSmartyPants]

Originally Posted by Lups

That all said, it is worth it. Visit, tell her even if she is asleep your favorite memories of your time together, cry. One of my friends said to me when her mom was dying that it felt wrong to cry in front of her when nothing was happening to her but to her mom and for once i managed to get a good advice out of myself: It is not enough to love someone, it's everything if you can let them know it too.

Thank you for sharing this perspective. My grandmother passed last year on July 5th. She was coherent at times when I was able to visit a couple days before she passed. I'm an emotional type and never end up saying as much as I want. I cried, more than I would have liked, but I felt she needed and wanted to see her family and she always perked up seeing us during visits. Never thought of the display of emotion as more than words, always thought myself as being a bit soft. Left me feeling frustrated, but your perspective suggests otherwise.

Again, Thank You.

J

[are0lies]

She's in bad shape, and I just HATE going over there now. My wife forces me, and she wants to spend all the last minutes with my mom. She's not the mom I remember, and I don't want those new memories of her in this state.

While you hate going, wouldn't it help your mother knowing that you are there for her? I realize that the body is weak, but I am sure that her spirit is willing. I regret not having visited a favorite uncle more often when he was in this same condition, for the same reasons you state, but I would do it for her, if I were in your shoes.

[HFW003]

Uncle, I say this with the greatest respect and from my heart.

My mother in law, to whom I donated I kidney to about 10 years ago, is in a very similar position.

Last week my Wife got a call from her Mum telling her she had called an ambulance to come and pick her up and take her to the hospital and it turns out her bowel was twisted. The Doctors told my Wife her Mother would either die from the twisted bowel or would die form the operation as she has a DNR.

My Son or I couldn't get to see her prior to the operation so we talked on the phone and told her how much she meant to us and so on.

Luckily she pulled through and is recovery, it's inevitable she is going to pass away sooner rather than later.

What you need to remember mate, it's not about you it's about your Mother and you being there for her.

I know how hard it is but be there for her.

Love

[bimmette]

Sorry to hear and I know this must be really difficult. Visit her as much as you can, as you'll regret it once she's gone.
Hugs.

[Rygel XXV]

I lost my mom over 16 years ago. I was her sole caretaker and it absolutely exhausted me. She raised me herself and I still miss her so much sometimes I curl into a ball of rage and sadness.

I haven't seen anyone mention it yet, but I'd suggest going to a support group. Your reaction to this circumstance isn't unusual, and it may be helpful to talk with others who intimately understand your pain.

She carried you inside her for 9 months and raised you until you could take care of yourself. Be strong for her now when she needs you.

[Lups]

Originally Posted by MrSmartyPants

Thank you for sharing this perspective. My grandmother passed last year on July 5th. She was coherent at times when I was able to visit a couple days before she passed. I'm an emotional type and never end up saying as much as I want. I cried, more than I would have liked, but I felt she needed and wanted to see her family and she always perked up seeing us during visits. Never thought of the display of emotion as more than words, always thought myself as being a bit soft. Left me feeling frustrated, but your perspective suggests otherwise.

Again, Thank You.

J

I'm sorry for your loss, and I envy your ability to be emotional. It is a beautiful thing and you should be proud of yourself.

[UncleWede]

You know how there are certain posts that we complain don't have that NSFW in the title? I may have to change this one, at least for myself. I'm blubbering like an idiot at my desk. And who would I normally turn to and tell my troubles? Mom.

I want to make it clear she's not at the palliative care/true hospice stage yet. Although sometimes I do somewhat selfishly wish it. I want her pain to end but when I shine the light deep down in my cold dark heart, I know it's as much for me as for her.

THIS is my support group, thank you all for stopping by and slapping me on the back, making me come to terms with my own selfish humanity, or just a hug. Sad, "strangers" come to me but I can't do the same for my mom.

I was driving to see my dad yesterday, and thinking about what some have said about the good memories outweighing the bad. But when I think of my dad, the first memory that pops in my head is when I saw him after his bypass, zonked out in recovery. Suddenly there was this corpse where my dad used to be. I can't remember ever seeing my dad not clean-shaven, and here were these grey stubble all over his face. He was mouth-breathing these pale, rattling breaths. Then not 6 weeks later I'm helping him build a fence and having to ask him to slow down.

The memories of mom taking us to the beach, her passing out on the towel because she had worked all night, are there but fading so quickly. I seem to be left with primarily the struggles she has endured over the 50 years I have known her.

And yes, I'm jealous of my brothers' ability to walk in and give her a hug. . . I can barely put a hand on her shoulder.

[Lups]

Originally Posted by UncleWede

You know how there are certain posts that we complain don't have that NSFW in the title? I may have to change this one, at least for myself. I'm blubbering like an idiot at my desk. And who would I normally turn to and tell my troubles? Mom.

I want to make it clear she's not at the palliative care/true hospice stage yet. Although sometimes I do somewhat selfishly wish it. I want her pain to end but when I shine the light deep down in my cold dark heart, I know it's as much for me as for her.

THIS is my support group, thank you all for stopping by and slapping me on the back, making me come to terms with my own selfish humanity, or just a hug. Sad, "strangers" come to me but I can't do the same for my mom.

I was driving to see my dad yesterday, and thinking about what some have said about the good memories outweighing the bad. But when I think of my dad, the first memory that pops in my head is when I saw him after his bypass, zonked out in recovery. Suddenly there was this corpse where my dad used to be. I can't remember ever seeing my dad not clean-shaven, and here were these grey stubble all over his face. He was mouth-breathing these pale, rattling breaths. Then not 6 weeks later I'm helping him build a fence and having to ask him to slow down.

The memories of mom taking us to the beach, her passing out on the towel because she had worked all night, are there but fading so quickly. I seem to be left with primarily the struggles she has endured over the 50 years I have known her.

And yes, I'm jealous of my brothers' ability to walk in and give her a hug. . . I can barely put a hand on her shoulder.

I'll write up the whole beautiful( pronounced bitter and ugly) tale of mine later.

Each of us handles these differently. You have your way, and i think if i tell you just how well mine went down, it'll give you the understanding to excuse yourself for all the negative feelings.

[kscarrol]

Yes, everyone has their own of coping with/processing these events. My brother's response was very similar to yours. Even I to some extent felt that way, preferring to remember my dad the way he was in life.

Probably more information than you want but on one of my last visits to see my dad before he passed, he asked me to take a picture of him. I said sure but why do you want a picture? He had said he had signed up with a group called the Neptune Society to have his body cremated and they would need a picture to verify they had the right body when they came to pick him up. Hard to do but I cherish that last picture. He managed a great smile and he almost looked like his old self... without the hair!

[Lups]

I needed a bit of time to write and edit this. This story is not nice, but I think someone who is going through this may find something good from this, or at least learn from my experiences, and i made mistakes too.

If you're very much pro life or extremely religious, I'm sorry if my words and actions hurts you. Please pm me your hate, let's keep it off from this thread.

This is a part of my history, and I would like you all to remember that that makes being objective very hard.

In July 2012 I bought a house next door to my parents so my kids could grow up near my dad. He loved taking my dogs and the kids daily for walks and I thought that it would be easier for me to juggle all the balls I had in the air if my dad was closer. My mom even then was not an option as a baby sitter or as a helper, I honestly didn’t trust her. We rented out that house since I was still designing what I would build on the slot and we lived only two miles away.

In December 4th 2012, my dad got a cold. His throat got so sore I forced him to the doctor after he mentioned it hurt even almost three weeks later. His chest was x-rayed and the file was sent immediately to our nearest cancer unit. He was called immediately to a scan, the biopsy from his lungs was taken on jan 3rd, prognosis and diagnosis were clear straight away to me. The final word came 7th of January. That tells you exactly how slow our universal healthcare system is in a hopeless case.

I kicked out my tenants (and I can say I'm not proud of this, I told them I would pay them back every cent they had paid me if they left in a week, if they wouldn't, the house would burn down. I had to be there, and for a person who always tells others to respect the rights of those who don't have as much as you do, yeah... I rented the house to a low income family when i bought it since i didn't need the money, and i bullied them when i needed the location. I hope this confession makes you understand just how much i was panicking, and i accept the hate for my action for this too. ). My husband spent most of that Christmas and the newyear at work, more about that later.

He went to the palliative care immediately. If someone is not familiar with the word, it means prolonging, life quality upholding treatment, it’s a step before hospice. He got one round of chemo (I think that’s the right word here but I'm too emotional to go through the papers right now). I went to visit him in the hospital 2.5 miles away. Then I drove back to the new house, painted most of the walls (I had horrible memories from that house), I moved our stuff in. I got two parking tickets from the hospital parking lot in between the moving, painting, tearing down a few walls from the prick house, and walking the dogs so I guess I visited in the two days three times, I just honestly don’t remember much of it at all.

My dad wanted to stay home. He was feeling fine, the throat was sore, he had lost about 20 lbs at that point. I prepared to the battle that was coming. My mom refused to be useful, she said she had enough stress with her job and that since I was unemployed, if I supported him staying home I should handle it (I only had kids, one of them still in special watch and always in some doctors office because he had microtia and the youngest used me as his main food source, in between I was trading stocks and building and designing homes but I mean I was unemployed).

I don’t think my mother ever understood what would happen shortly. I was up all night adding insulations to the “new house” and researching and emailing the people who were offering spots for a study they were doing about virus treatments for cancer. Honest to coffee, in the end of January I was so out of it I once went a week in same clothes, since the only time I slept was while they were being washed on a fast program and dried on an even faster program. I hadn't had the time to find my clothes from the moving boxes. That was the point my husband gained a habit of dressing me while I was still asleep basically since 7am I had to go check on my dad, give him his meds, handle his schedule for the day, then go cook for my kids and dress them warmly so they could play on the yard while I was playing my dad's secretary (he was finishing off his work). Then I made him lunch, went home with the kids and fed them, did calls to the few clinics and study groups around the world who were accepting patients for this virus treatment, ran around buying food for my family, for my dad, got him books, talked with his doctors, made dinner, tried to book my friends and everyone else like my mil and fil to take the kids for my dad's doctor appointments, and all that was on a good day, bad days my dad felt bad, and I had to stay with him all the time while running after my kids disinfecting their hands since kids are germ spreading maniacs.

In February my dad turned 60. All of our family gathered to their home to celebrate his birthday and they gave my mom all the credit for being such an awesome caregiver. I'm pretty sure there was alcohol in the party, I never got to know since I sat in a corner, there were three doctors, three nurses and one vet in the room, so I fell asleep in my chair. My husband carried me home, my kids followed him which is hilarious since the youngest wasn’t even 10 months old.

Three days after his birthday my dad got a fever, the day he was supposed to take the third set of chemo at home. He called me since the fever rose after my morning visit. This marked a new daily order in my life.

I called the palliative care unit, and I was told to take him to the ER since things cancer unit doesn’t take in in no case is people who have a fever. My husband had until this point worked almost around the clock at his office or from home and it had confused me a lot. I mean, I was researching, and my hours were spent elsewhere, i sometimes thought he too wasn't understanding it all. I was wrong.

I called him at work for the first time that day, he told me he had a work conference starting in 20 but that he had already okayed it that our kids would join them and that our kids had security clearance (lol) to be in the office with him if he couldn’t work from home for some reason. Note, that he had ensured our kids would not go to a day care of the office facilty or go near other kids and everyone in his team had apparently been informed he was not shaking anyones hand.

The ambulance crew transporting my dad from the er to an other hospital didn't manage to register a fever with my dad, and some damn fluke ensured the new hospital didn’t even know he had cancer, his oxygen intake was about 65 (you're pretty fucking sick if you hit 95/ 100, I'm sorry I don’t know the term for this in English.

So I got there. I was in the ward for all of 20 minutes when I realized they didn’t have his file, they had relied on the bad fever check. I blew up completely. Turned out he had had a blood clot in his lung, he had pneumonia, and he had been given ibuprofen. Some of you know me well enough just how well that went down, I took him home.

After that all virus treatments were out as an option since the blood clot in the lungs was a reason enough to push the previous estimate of life span went from 6 months to days.

In march he had issues with a tooth, I took him to the dentist. We got to the waiting room, I was emailing his doctor about if we could please, please have the option of trying an other load of drugs, he turned to me and said he lost the feeling from his legs. I told him he should see his dentist, and when his time came, I carried him there and went out to call the cancer ward and I called my mom to let him know a hard turn had just happened. They told me to bring him in. I carried him out from there, to the car, from the car to the hospital and some old bat screamed at me for double parking, while I carried my 180lbs dad to the nearest wheelchair. I took him in, and I had to leave to get my kids since my friend was babysitting and his son had ended up in a hospital for a broken arm.

I got my kids, fed them, put them down for their nap, and I ran next door to check my med situation. I found my mom from the couch drinking wine. She decided to do a half day because she had heard about her husband of thirty years losing his legs. “you don’t understand, now he has to be sent to a hospice.”

I can put this kindly if someone needs it, but the truth is I have never hated anyone as much as I hated my mom at that moment. I told her very kindly that I would use every cent I had made in my miserable life to make sure all their properties would be divided, I would make it so horrible to sell anything, I would make sure everything would be marked up so much we all would lose hundreds of thousands in taxes, if she didn’t let me keep dad in their home.

In a week, I got him back home. He was fully with us. I was working as hard as I could to keep my family together, namely seeing my kids at times, driving him around, at the pharmacy, getting him in the home hospice program, making sure his secretary sends us the last things they wanted him to sign, sleeping sometimes for more than an hour and building a snow castle big enough I could stand on top of it and watch over my dad from a window while playing with my kids. I had no time at any time to be with him, if not his doctor visiting. My mom wasn’t helping exactly since she kept sending me out to get ice cream for their guests, she kept texting me gasket models I had to get pricing and my personal favorite was a question on how to ask my dad if he could have a church funeral and how he would feel about being buried to her family grave. In his last days I saw him when I was feeding him meds, or through a window. In the March 28th he lost consciousness and I called it. I called his doctor, and informed her I am stopping the antibiotics after I told my mother and my brother that that was the only humane thing to do. The doctor and my mother, and my brother agreed, temporarily. After they understood that the last few days means diapers, sitting and waiting, they wanted him back on them. More about this later.

On April first he died. I went to fetch a neighbor (doctor) to declare him dead. I was shaking. After that I went home, told my husband who was, and I shit you not, enjoying his morning ritual of a porcelain and a paper and he started laughing, since it was april fools day. I know thats a stupid thing to tell you, but the moment was unreal. I still laugh at the memory of that shitty moment, on a shitty morning.

I was so out of it, I walked back to the house, got all his meds, most of them opioids, and drove to my usual pharmacy to hand them over, flushing those down is illegal here. I drove back and I was told that our family members would be visiting the grieving widow and his son so I should go home.

My uncle, my dad's brother and others didn’t want to see me since before I killed my dad, I also had left him alone to die and I didn’t care to help my poor mom and my brother in caring for him.

I went home. I don’t think I cried at any point.

About a week later I got a parking ticket. They had moved from physical tickets to mail parking tickets at the hospital areas while he was ill and they were fast to issue them. In a few weeks I got about 25 tickets (I never had the time to fill in for an invalid parking space permit, and I never had the time to get a permit for the five minute stay permits. After I was told by my extended family I deserve no pity because I deserted my dad, the month I got physical mail, in the form of tickets felt so fucking good. I saved every damn ticket. I paid them all (and they later returned me the money, not because I asked, but because I sent them a letter to thank them for issuing them).

In the funeral, and in the reception, it is a custom that the widow and the kids, and the grandkids walk and sit in the first table. In our case, I and my kids, his only grandkids were shoved to a corner. I didn’t actually at that point give a shit about anything else but my husband had been under fire from every angle for months. He realized at the same time I did that this was bad so he made sure he could be there for me. He never complained, not even once. Later, months later, I realized he did this on me too.

It was playing on repeat in my car every morning while I was trying to pick myself up enough to get the car warm enough I could take my dad in it.

So I killed my dad. There is no nice way to put it, I did it.

The thing I want you all to know is that all of that was horrible. I mean, come the fuck on, parking tickets as a way to know you were there? So fucking pathetic. My ties to my extended family are dead, my mother might be a bit mad at me, I don’t know how my brother feels since we don’t talk.

A few months after his death, we moved to USA. A few months after that I bought Peter (an F82, ay, manual, I added this just so some of you understand what a joy my road trips were). I had been in some time warp it felt like. I couldn’t get rid of the hate I felt towards my mom and my brother, and towards me. I felt worthless. A murderer walking free. Basically I felt the few parking tickets kept me sane (I brought them over, I somehow needed them near, those could've been fun to explain in customs btw), at that point I was working with a few shelters and with drug abusers there in my free time, but the first moment of true peace came when I saw a sign pointing towards The Little Big Horn. I was in pieces when I got to the battle ground. I was so fucking broken I was changing clothes in the parking lot since I didn't know if I was in a funeral, in a historic site, or what was so hard for me.

http://m4trip.blogspot.fi/2014/08/th...-horn.html?m=1

That’s what I wrote then. After that the flood gates opened and I let go of the last few monts, and I learned to love the good memories that all had been buried under the hurt, the bitterness, the hate.

I am honored that I was there. For sure, from most days only gained ticket is a proof of it, but you know what guys? I fucking loved him. I would do it all again.


*I edited this post, and it was a lot longer originally. I honest to god think i tried to be honest here. My story is not nice but if you read it through, you understand how hard it can be but the good memories will push through. Loving those close to you is always worth the sacrifices it takes.