Disclaimer: Not looking for pity or advice. Empathy from those that have experienced a similar event are welcome but even then, if you don't feel like talking, I completely understand.

My dad passed on in January of this year. Last year was the worst for him in terms of everything dealing w/ heart failure. August he had his second (in 10yrs) open heart surgery and that was for what's called the "cabbage" (network of arteries/veins) to be worked on... aka, stints. After his release from that, it was in and out, adjusting meds and being in the hospital at least every other week through January.
We knew things were going down hill.... me moreso than anyone, since I was the one that took him to every single visit and hospital admittance. A heart doctor tried all that she could and never gave us the "this is is" scenario until, it really was happening, which was last December. The most prevalent details in my mind are the last couple months when we really saw him decline. He could barely eat (heart couldn't properly give the nourishment needed by the digestive system) and after a nice turkey day holiday w/ me, my brother, my daughters and granddaughters, the next appt in December was to let us know what I just said. She said it gently enough so that we understood - my dad and I - but neither one of us wanted to question her further b/c the truth was really sinking in at that time.

December, we had an "adult" gathering for Xmas. Me and my 2 brothers... me, adopted by him when I was a baby (legally my father), my younger brother - his blood son, and my oldest brother who has a father but was rarely in his life and whom my dad took care of and raised, as well. My older brother's wife, my 2 daughters and one of my daughter's friends. He didn't have a plate of food... just nibbled at a wonderful dinner we had prepared and stayed awake (like the last holiday) when usually he slept half of his days away (a result of the shutting down process).

So this month is just wracked w/ pain and reliving what we went through w/ him. He had 17 days in January... 4 of those days he was mostly sleeping. I took him to the hospital for the last time on a Friday. He had called me and said he needed to go. I was there in no time. While I waited for him to get ready, he passed in and out of consciousness (although I didn't know it at the time and just thought it was real sleepiness) several times before we even left. He could barely walk and I was very close to calling for an ambulance... but he wanted to maintain the last of his dignity and just get to the car. Two days later, he was in hospice and barely woke up the first day. Didn't speak again after Monday, and passed on Wednesday night.

Dealing w/ shit at work has left me in a state where I have been stuck in limbo... not being able to mourn properly, and not being able to appreciate the last times that we all had together. I fucking hate my job as a result of this, but it's also b/c my job that I was the only person that was able to take him to his doctor visits and emergency room visits (which he would be admitted for). Maybe since that time is over and nothing is being done to resolve the problems I have w/ an individual that spikes my anxiety to the max - even if I've really gotten it under control over the last couple years - I can peacefully look for s/thing more in the line of work that I want to be in, as opposed to the one that has eventually over time given me the money I thought I needed.
I know my dad was all for me getting a new job, most especially when I went to salary and my checks come in once a month. - What a fucking PITA!

I hope no one else reads this and gets sad, thinking about things they've experienced. I opted for a venue where I wasn't very well known; could express things in an open environment; and hopefully wouldn't upset certain people prone to this trigger. I don't talk to my mom, as of several years now b/c she's a manipulative bitch that nearly ruined my life, but my dad was everything to me... the strength of the entire, divorced family.... the one that everyone went to for strength, reliability and knowledge. It was a great loss.

The last book he read is a book I gave him when he went in for his last open heart surgery. The Gunslinger: The Dark Tower.

My dad died suddenly 10 years ago this past September. I was 17. It’s different than watching someone decline like that, but...I feel your pain. My dad was my hero too.

(I know you weren’t looking for sympathy or anything, but hugs if you want them)

your a very strong person for sharing your story and letting it all out, and that for most people is the most difficult thing, but ad least you showed strength and shared. i dont know you but to me that makes me a very proud stranger. always keep your head up and always let yourself express how you feel. i hope things get better for you and how you feel. i hope your holidays are still bright and you can let him ive through you.

stay strong always. you got this. im proud of you.