Exactly eighteen months ago was the beginning of the saddest 24 hours of my life.
July 26, 2010
It was my second wedding anniversary and my husband and I had spent the day in Philly. We first caught a game at Citizens Bank Park. The Phils played the Rockies and won 5-4. Good game and good seats. We then ventured into the city and grabbed an early dinner at my favorite outdoor bar. It was an awesome day.
We returned home around 7:00 pm and shortly there after, I received a call that my Dad was heading to the hospital. He had been sick for a few months, but he was planning to return to work in just a few weeks. My step-mom was driving him there so it wasn’t anything too serious. They told me to just stay home and wait to see if he was going to be admitted or not.
About a half an hour later, I received a call from my Aunt. She was clearly crying and told me I needed to come to the hospital right away. I asked her what had happened and she wouldn’t tell me.
The one thing I hate is secrets. If something is going on, I want to know about it. But I didn’t hound her.
It was a thirty-five minute drive. When we arrived, my step-mom was outside with her sisters. As soon as we got out of the car, she proceeded to tell me my Dad’s heart stopped about five minutes after he had arrived at the hospital. The doctors had to work very hard, but they were able to get it started again.
They had a private waiting room available for my family. It’s a good thing because I have a large family and we were all there. A doctor came in to give us an update. She didn’t even know my Dad’s name. She was rude and inconsiderate, informing us that the emergency room was packed and that they were short on doctors. I’m not sure why she would feel the need to tell the family of a man whose heart stopped that they don’t have enough doctors. Not much more information was given except that they were prepping him for an ICU room and we should be able to see him shortly.
After a couple of hours, he was ready in ICU. He was on full life support and looked nothing like himself. It finally came to the point where they told us he most likely would not make it. He was forty-nine years old.
The next morning we made the decision to end his life support. I was in the room when they did. I watched him die. And that wasn’t even the hardest part of my day.
After it was over, we all went home to try and sleep since we were up all night at the hospital. I couldn’t sleep so I just sat on the couch and watched movies. I couldn’t cry much because I was all cried out. I couldn’t eat because I wasn’t hungry.
I would hear my husband call his family and our friends with the dreadful news, but I was pretty numb to the whole thing since I was too busy worrying about the dreadful thing I had to do later that day.
It finally came time to face the most difficult moment of my life. I got showered, dressed, and hopped into my husband’s truck. We drove the thirty minutes discussing exactly how we were going to do this. Unfortunately, there was no book, expert, or blog that could help us face what we needed to face.
I walked into my Dad’s house and they were waiting for us.
That’s when I told tell my seven-year-old sister that her Dad was dead.
Our Dad was her best friend. They did everything together. Her best friend was dead.
She really had no emotion about it. I cried (a lot) and she said matter-of-factly that Daddy was in heaven. She then showed me her new Silly Bands. I still have the three she gave me that day.
The Important Things
I am just as guilty as anyone for worrying about the “stupid shit” in life.
I worry about that email I haven’t replied to yet. I worry about whether someone will like the design I come up with for them. I worry about the embarrassment I may face while speaking in front of a group of people.
But at the end of the day, all of these things are not worth worrying about – not even for one second.
I watched my Dad die. I told my seven-year-old sister her best friend was dead.
I’m not telling you this story to make you feel sorry for me. I’m telling you this to make sure you give importance to the things that matter to you. Worrying about the mundane things in life will get you nowhere. Focus on the important ones and put all of your energy into making them count.
thrive
as a
solopreneur
{ 12 comments… read them below or add one }
I’m sorry for your loss, Nina…truly.
And thanks for the wakeup call..I tend to get quite lost in the mad scramble of life too. Guess it’s easy to forget to..well, live and love.
Just decided to love what I do with renewed vigour…or find something to do that I love.
Thanks, Avinash. It’s sometimes easy to forget the important things in life. I just try to remember that in the grand scheme of things, whatever is troubling me right now won’t matter a year from now.
Nina,
I’m sorry to hear and read about your loss.
Your story reduced me to tears and I can’t thank you much for the “reminder” and such inspiring post.
Your message have me reflected upon my own journey and (thanks to you) I will give importance to the things that matter the most, now.
Never felt so thankful with such a good hard slap on the face. I wish you all the best in your life journey.
Thank you so much, Ajmal. Life is way to short to waste it with worry for things that really don’t matter. My plan is to take time this weekend to spend time with the ones I love. You should do the same!
Wow, very powerful story. You’re a very strong individual to put this out there. I have no doubt it will help anyone who reads it.
Thanks for sharing – bookmarked this one under “When I Need A Wake Up Call.”
Thanks, Dan. It was easy to write but hard to hit “Publish”. But if it helps just one person, it was worth writing. I plan to reread it anytime I need a wake up call, too.
I totally understand this. When I was 18, I had been at college for about 2 weeks when I got a call from my dad. He told me had pancreatic cancer and that it was very unlikely he would live 6 months.
I immediately went back to Kentucky (I was at Texas Tech). I got home on a Sunday. He went in for surgery on the following Tuesday and died that night from complications.
I, too, watched my dad die in front of me. I, too, had to talk to my younger sibling (he was 12).
That was ten years ago this year. The pain never goes away, you just get used to it.
However, there is a huge upside to this. If he hadn’t gotten sick and died, I wouldn’t have returned to Kentucky. Which means I wouldn’t have hooked back up with Britt, who is now my wife of 7 years.
I wouldn’t have learned how to write code. I wouldn’t have bonded with Chris (my cousin, the Thesis guy
). I wouldn’t have done a lot of things that I cherish.
This isn’t the end. It is the beginning. It’s just a really weird and terribly difficult way to start.
Oh man, Matt. You know exactly how I felt. I’m so sorry you had to go through the same thing. It’s hard to wrap my brain around why people leave this world so young. But I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason – just like for you getting back together with Britt, learning code, and becoming closer with Chris. I’ve yet to see the silver lining of my Dad’s death but I’m sure it will be here someday. Thank you for sharing your story – I haven’t known many people who have gone through the same thing.
Nina,
It’s very kind of you to share that with us. I had a crappy day today. It made me realize what went wrong I will take care of and it will be OK. Thank you. You made ME feel better. You also made me realize telling my story about my Mom could help others. Thank you for sharing today…more than you think. 
I took care of my Mom for 10 years for 24/7 in home. She had Multiple Sclerosis. That was my life, My best friend and always will be. She passed ( I still hate that saying) in December 06′. To me, yesterday. That saying “I’m sorry for your loss” will never be enough. I truly am though. I know very well that Nurse you ran into. It always amazed me the people, so many anyway, who have jobs that deal with people, are miserable . I ran into so many. but just as many people who were blessings as well. The strength it needed to lose a parent. No one will ever understand until the do. Dan is right. You are strong. Sounds like your sister is too.
Colleen, I am so sorry for your loss. Losing someone you love is never easy. I’m so glad my story helped you put things into perspective. In a weird way, it is helping me, too, because it is making me remember how nothing else mattered but my family when he passed. I want to try and instill that mindset all of the time, however, it is easy to forget as time goes on. You should tell your story about your Mom. I was reluctant to tell mine but if it helps just one person, it is worth writing.
Wow Nina, I am so sorry for your loss. But thank you for sharing this story with us. It is far too easy to get worked up over the little things, and this was a great reminder of just that.
Thank you, Jennifer. It’s just too easy to forget that not everything is as important as it seems. I still worry about the little things but I try and bring myself back to this day and it helps me put things back into perspective.