You know, I should KNOW better than to go off on these kinds of rants, but here I go, pissing off Blogland again ...
... it's just my opinion, but I really feel that a certain blogger* should have, maybe, oh ... STAYED BY HER DYING FATHER'S BEDSIDE instead of leaving to shuttle her kid to yet another preschool evaluation.
Okay. This strikes a nerve, because I was not at my own father's bedside when he died. He and my mom were living in Florida at the time. He had been diagnosed with cancer, and the doctors had given him six months to live, and of course, all of us family members were making plans to fly down to stay with him and mom. Six weeks after his diagnosis, two DAYS before I was scheduled to fly down to spend time with him, he died in the night. And it KILLS me that I wasn't there. I will always regret that I wasn't there to say goodbye.
So to read about this spoiled little twit blogger, who LEFT HER DYING DAD'S BEDSIDE because she had, you know, MORE IMPORTANT STUFF TO DO, just makes me livid.
Grrrrrrr.
(This is why Blogland hates me.) (If I don't show up here anymore, you'll know that this gal's friends hunted me down and killed me. Except I'm pretty sure we don't travel in the same, you know, bloggy circles, so I should be safe.)(And I mean, COME ON, she left her dying dad's bedside to take her kid to a routine appointment. SHEESH.)
*email me if you want the ID.
4 comments:
I will focus more on you, than her, as you're more important and worth the air time. Guilt is a wicked thing, and poisons us slowly. I have no answer as to why he died when he did, but know that he died when he was supposed to, whether or not you were there. Your attendence in the matter doesn't mean much to the Universe, it was only him that was taken into account. Maybe if you look at it from that point of view, it will be easier to deal with. ((hugs))
I thought the same thing. Then I remembered the time my brother-in-law criticized me for not quitting my new job when Mom went through her 2-week hospice. My dad died while I was out of town, and I felt bad about that too. At any rate, it's the dying person wh decides who will be there. Dad wanted total privacy, Mom wanted Gary there.
The more I think about it, the more I wonder if maybe she didn't want to be there? Maybe she was scared to be there?
It just seems so cold, somehow ... like, "Gee, Dad, I'm sorry you're actively dying, right NOW, but ... I'VE GOTTA RUN!"
And yeah, ultimately, it is HIS death and his alone, but I will tell you right now, this is why I never had kids, because if I was ON MY DEATHBED and my kids LEFT TO RUN ERRANDS, I would come back and HAUNT their asses.
I've not been in this situation, but when my aunt died a few years ago, I missed her passing by about 10 minutes, which made me feel awful.
She was surrounded by family members so wasn't alone, but I felt I had missed something I shouldn't have.
I want the ID...
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