One Year Without Dad - :-(

It was a year ago today that the medical industry successfully killed my father. Two weeks earlier, his immune system was compromised when he received a flu shot.* He told me that he hadn’t felt good since the shot, and before he knew it, he had contracted pneumonia, and died a few days later.

The day dad died was truly a beautiful one. I remember standing on the main beach next to the Boardwalk, in Santa Cruz, CA that morning, watching the sailboats come and go. Knowing how much dad liked the out of doors, I wanted to tell him about my beautiful morning, and find out how he was feeling. When I spoke with him, he told me that he didn't think he was going to make it. I knew that he was serious, and I began preparing to travel to Utah in hopes of seeing him before it was too late.

My sister soon called and reported to me that dad’s doctor had informed her that dad probably wouldn't make it through the night.** I immediately called Delta Airlines, who happily accommodated me and booked a family emergency flight, and within a couple of hours I was on my way. Even though the flight took only two hours, the anxiety made it the longest flight of my life, hoping that I would make it before dad passed.

Dad should have died before I arrived, but he waited for me so that we could be together one last time... and say goodbye. When I finally entered the hospital in Tooele, I found my sister and her family sitting with my sickly looking old dad who appeared to be ready to die. His countenance lifted and we enjoyed a wonderful, but brief reunion.

We had a wonderful time together that evening. He asked us if there was anything that we would like to say before he passed. I took the opportunity to tell him how much I love and appreciate him, and thanked him for the good example he has always been to me. I told him every positive thing about him and our family relationship I could think of, and after everyone had a chance to say what was in our hearts, dad said, “OK, lets get this over with” and removed his oxygen mask. A little more than a half hour later, he was gone.

As we cried and held each other, dad’s frail empty shell sat silently in the room. The giant hero in my life was gone, and I knew that things would never be the same without him.

One year later, things are definitely different. We no longer live in Santa Cruz, and have moved into my late parent’s house in Utah, and have been busy making it our home.

*Flu shots are a successfully sinister public relations campaign directed at the naive and gullible masses who prefer to hand their agency over to the neo-high priests that they oxymoronically refer to as health care professionals.

**Doctors regularly blame their patients for the medical industry’s own incompetence, and are responsible for more American deaths in one year than all of the wars in the last century combined.