Two weeks ago, my world fell apart when my Dad passed away.

Today, the 4th of July, a day of celebration for my country, I lost my son. He did not survive a car accident early this morning.

How much more am I supposed to take?

Well, The year from…

Hell continues.

The last couple of months have really sucked! I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer, shortly after that my husband had a heart attack, and two days before Father’s Day here in the States, my Dad died.

I was fortunate with the cancer I developed. We found it REALLY early, and it is one of the easiest to treat. Let me explain.

My doctor decided to remove my thyroid because I am one of the special people who tested positive for both Graves’ Disease (hyperthyroidism) AND Hashimoto’s Disease (hypothyroidism). I didn’t think it was even possible to have both. Both are auto immune diseases, and were causing havoc in my body. To top it off, I had 2 lumps the biopsy showed as benign. After the surgery to completely remove my thyroid, the pathology found the cancer.

My doctor said, “If you have to have cancer, you have the good one.” I had 2 weeks of a low iodine diet (that part stunk!) followed by a radioactive iodine treatment. That was it. It happens to be super easy to cure. From here on out, we simply need to monitor me just in case it pops back up somewhere else since it had migrated into my lymph nodes.

About 3 weeks after my surgery, my husband stressed himself into a heart attack. He ended up off work for about 6 weeks, and is still fighting with the insurance company to get approved for the short-term disability.

So he finally gets back to work, and is there long enough to get ONE paycheck. It was looking like things may just start going back to normal and we would get caught up on the bills when my older brother calls to tell me Dad had died.

Which prompted an emergency road trip. He lived 1000 miles away from me. I live in New Mexico, USA. He lived in South Dakota.  (It’s really hard to refer to him in past tense.) While we were in SD, my younger brother caused a few problems for me and my older brother regarding the will, BEFORE we even had his funeral! We did get that worked out eventually, but GEEZ! What an ASS!

We just got home from that trip yesterday, and I am sitting here at home trying to process the fact that the foundation for everything positive I have ever had, is gone. Dad was the rock for me. My mom is still around, but she is not my favorite person.

Mom actively abused my older brother until he turned 12, when she dumped him off at Dad’s house with his clothes. In the middle of winter. Without even sticking around to see if he could get in the house. She seemed to truly hate Wes.

Me, she just ignored. Ken, my younger brother abused me. In every way possible. He even gave me sexually to his friends, because they were in High School and STILL virgins. When I tried to tell Mom about it, she called me a liar, and told me not to leave my bedroom until I was 40. Her response was along the lines of “How dare I accuse my brother of something soo heinous! He would never do that! What is wrong with you (me)?”

Dad did everything he could for me and Wes. He didn’t know just how bad it was for me at Mom’s. Like most abuse victims, I hid it. For a long time, I thought I deserved to be a walking, talking punching bag. Dad never let Ken get away with anything at his house though. He always, if unknowingly, protected me from Ken. I was safe there.

Dad didn’t always like my choices after I got away from Mom’s house, but he always supported me and my right to make them. I don’t know what I am going to do with out him. Who will give me advise? Or tell me how to cook a new recipe? Or teach me basic car repairs? Or help my friends who have lost their own Dads?

I’m not ready for him to be gone! Not yet!

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I Love You, Dad!