Things got progressively worse, fast. I was able to extend my stay until Valentines Day, but then I had to get back to Alabama because I was 31 weeks and needed to get to a prenatal appt. I sat with my dad the night before I left and held his hand. I talked to him, told him how much I loved him and what a strong person he was. And just sat there and cried with him. He was able to open his eyes a few times and look at me, but he couldn't say anything. I hated leaving the following day, but knew I had to.
6 days later, and the day after my birthday, he passed away. I called home on my birthday and my mom put me on speaker phone and sat with my dad so he could hear my voice. Me and my mom had our coversation, but so my dad could hear it all. I talked to him and told him again, how much I loved him. My mom said he raised his eyebrows once and towards the end of our conversation and me talking so much he opened his eyes really wide. I like to think my voice that he always loved to hear so much woke him up a bit :)
The following morning, before leaving for my doctor appt, my mom called me to tell me my dad was gone. He passed away at sunrise (his favorite time of day) and my mom was in his room with him and talking to him when he passed. He wasn't alone and knew it was okay to go. She had said that his breathing had started getting really shallow the night before and my mom just kept praying he would at least hold out until the morning, so he wouldn't pass on my birthday. Come sunrise, he left us.
All of this happened in 3 months time. From November 23rd, to February 20th. And just 2 weeks after leaving the hospital when his Doctor told him he had 'months'. Incredibly fast and in my dad's words: "a whirlwind".
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