Memories of my own grief

I was struck with the realization that Bob's daughter Rachel is about the age that I was when dad died on July 25, 1969. I was 20. She was with her mom at Cleveland Clinic the whole time during Bob's second hospitalization, and had to endure the downward spiral that became his life in his last days. 

I found dad lifeless in his bed at Maumee Valley Hospital on that Friday evening of the 25th. I knew from one look at him that he had passed on. I consider that to be the day I became an adult and in charge of my life. My Uncle Fred, dad's only sibling, was his executor. I called Fred and insisted that there be an autopsy so I would know what happened. We later found out he had a massive stroke, probably alcohol induced. I didn't cry for two weeks as I was, in retrospect, in shock. I remember when I finally cried: it was two weeks later in my boyfriend Mike's car on the way back from Celina, OH. I had gone to his house to stay for a week. I was looking out the car window and saw the stars. Dad loved to point out the constellations to me and those memories all came crashing down on me. I had been holding it together until then and the dam burst. I don't remember much else about the visit, other than being out in the country around the quiet farmland gave me a lot of peace at the time. 

Bob had micro brain bleeds that gave him stroke symptoms that put him in the hospital for the last time. My speculation is that he had discontinued his aspirin post-surgical protocol without a replacement anticoagulant but I am just guessing. He went back to UTMC and Bob and Jackie both decided that he be transferred back to Cleveland Clinic. From there it became ongoing treatment for micro brain bleeds, and difficulties in breathing, which resulted in his intubation during the last few days of his life. He was able to communicate by moving his foot in response to questions but could no longer speak. Just typing that sentence brings on an overwhelming sense of grief over Bob's last days on earth - ones that I wouldn't wish on anyone. He coded twice on the evening of March 6, 2025 and was not able to be revived. Luke and Barb were en route to CC when Jackie called them with the devastating news. After a short recovery at one of the plazas, they continued on to CC to meet Jackie and say their goodbyes to Bob one last time. I cannot imagine the horrible grief my sister went through that night. 

My heart goes out to Jackie and the kids. They will relive nightmarish visions of Bob's last days for many years. They will eventually come to a restless peace with those but it will take a long time. I hope they can find peace.

Barb and Jackie find solace in their church and their faith. The hymns and music of Christianity, as well as the words of the prayers give me some peace if only for the litany they provide. I remain an Agnostic as I have not found any evidence that a god exists, although many people believe in one. I guess I may sort it out someday on my own death bed - or not. In the meantime, I will try to keep it together for my extended family. Katie is taking this hard. Alex and Oliver really didn't know Bob very well so they probably don't understand what we're going through, which is probably okay at this point. 

I am finding that, at least for now, this blog is helping me to sort out my thoughts. I've always felt more comfortable putting things on paper than speaking.  

Here is a link to Bob's obituary at Sujkowski Funeral Home.

https://tinyurl.com/3bzfae3b