Dad passed away today.

There is a lot of childhood trauma that I still haven't resolved, so these threads always hit close to home.

I hope you are only left with fond memories, and not the pain of loss.

In reply to Recon1342 :

So sorry to hear of the loss of your dad.  He sounds like he was a great guy.

I worshipped my dad.  There wasn't anything he couldn't do.  At least that was the impression I had when he died at 46, when I was 18.  Doctor said he died of cirrhosis.  I never saw him drunk a day in my life, but he didn't miss taking a snort to two everyday.  I find myself almost getting angry at him for dying so young when I needed him.  Now at 70 myself, my doctor is telling me I have fatty liver, so maybe pops had that too.      

Remember all the good times, my friend.   I bet you have a lot of them.    

I am sorry for your loss

This is going to be a long post...

Did a lot of driving and thinking this weekend. 

I want to share some background about how Dad wound up where he did, health-wise. It may save someone else the heartache later in life...

In 1998, Dad was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. As far as disease processes go, CHF is an insidious bastard- it's a progressive disease, eventually resulting in the heart's inability to properly function.  Dad's particular case was left sided, involving the side of the heart that pumps blood to the rest of the body.  There are many causes of CHF, but the one that caused Dad so much grief is also the one that is most treatable early on. 

In his 30s, Dad was diagnosed with high blood pressure. Now, my Dad was an awesome guy, but he was also a stubborn ass. High blood pressure was not something he was interested in having, so instead of working to treat it, he ignored it. 

The years of uncontrolled blood pressure resulted in the enlargement of Dad's left ventricle. This is what caused the weakening and eventual failure of his heart later in life. 

The moral of the story is to take care of the little things so they don't become big things later on...

Lots of good memories, though; I'm definitely thankful he was such a fighter. 

He taught me how to drive a manual transmission and how to ride motorcycles. He took me on plumbing jobs when he was self-employed (I was 10) and taught me how to solder copper pipe and plumb all manner of fixtures; knowledge I still use on a regular basis when someone in the family has plumbing problems.

His favorite thing to say regarding consumables like solder and pipe tape was "(insert consumable here) is cheap, and leaks are expensive."

That turned out to be sage advice for a lot of things. 

My senior year of high school, we went to Yellowstone National Park and fly-fished every flat spot of water we could find for two weeks. 

Didn't catch a damn thing, but we sure had a lot of fun. 

Dad did a lot of golfing on the local amateur circuit when I was growing up. I never could get the hang of it, and Dad thought it was absolutely hilarious that I could get a shot to slice nearly 90 degrees off the intended direction of travel. 

We stuck to the driving range after that. 

When I enlisted in the Marines, Dad razzed me about picking the Corps over his beloved Army for about two seconds, and then promptly declared that he was the proudest Dad in the whole world. When I came back from my first combat deployment, his chest was so puffed out he was in danger of losing the buttons on his shirt. The same thing happened after my second and third deployments. I still don't really understand why; I've never felt that I did anything spectacular.

In 2003, Reconkid#1 was born, Dad's first grandchild. Turns out Dad was born to be a grandpa. He would eventually wind up with eight grandchildren, all of whom he spoiled with absolutely no remorse whatsoever. 

In 2017, Dad had his LVAD installed, as his heart could no longer sustain him. The pump is implanted in the left side of the heart and takes over the function of the left ventricle. LVAD patients are expected to live for 4-5 years; the record is 13 years. Dad made it 6 1/2 years...  

Over these last few years, Dad was acutely aware of his mortality, and had many brushes with death related to LVAD complications such as infection, internal bleeding, and all manner of other fun things. Despite these trials, Dad continued to fight like a cornered wildcat and spit in death's eye every chance he got. 

I am truly blessed to have had such a giant of a man as my father.

I would like to thank all of you for your condolences, well-wishes, and support. GRM truly is a family of like-minded hooligans, and I am glad to count you all among my friends. 

In reply to Recon1342 :

What a worthy tribute to your Dad.  Sounds like an amazing guy.

I can see why his shirt buttons were bursting with Pride for you.

In reply to Recon1342 :

If your story about Dad inspires someone to start talking better care of themselves, then hes still with us, because hes still looking out for us and keeping us safe.

I am just seeing this now. I am so sorry for your loss. My sincerest condolences to you and your family. 

I have family members who have dealt with heart issues, so I know this all too well. Reading your last post, he sounded like a really great guy.