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Messages - Jessica

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Parent Loss / Re: Registration for Webhealing/Chat Room
« on: January 21, 2016, 02:20:08 AM »
I don't see the register tab. I only see the reply tab.

Hello everyone. My name is Jessica and I am 32 years old. I have a sister who is now 34 years old. My sister and I were adopted by my father and mother when we were very young toddlers. By the time I turned 4 years old my (adopted) mother had passed away from cancer. To make matters worse, our house burned down one summer afternoon and we lost everything. My father was in poor health at the time, and he wasn't financially capable of rebuilding a house and taking care of us two girls on his own. His sister, who was his closest friend and very dear to his heart, reached out to him and offered to take my father, my sister, and me into her home permematly, where we could all live as a family.
Dad lost Janie (my mother), my Aunt Rea lost her husband (who died of a heart attack) and she had always wanted to have children but she wasn't physically capable of having any of her own. So my sister and I lived with my Dad and my Aunt (who was our legal guardian) from the time we were young kids until we finished high school and went off to college. Dad and Aunt Rea made a very good team when it came to raising us. When I was 24 years old my father was diagnosed with cancer. Although the Doctors told him he wouldn't live longer than 6 months without treatment, he opted out of traditional treatment and went the holistic route. The doctors were certainly wrong about the length of time my Dad would live without treatment. He was a strong willed man and he loved life and wasn't ready to die. Years came and went and his health would fluexuate , but he was always able to bounce back. He didn't really start suffering until about 3 years ago. The tumor on his neck got so large that it made it difficult for him to eat and he lost a lot of weight. Be began getting weaker, but it was a slow process. I lived with him for about a year so that I could spend time with him and help him out in whatever ways I could. My sister did the same thing. She would come home for extended stays to visit Dad and Aunt Rea and help Dad with whatever he needed. But Dad and Aunt Rea were always together. They no longer lived together, now that my sister and I were adults; but they were best friends and spent everyday with one another. Aunt Rea was in very good health. She had always been very athletic, healthy, and took great care of herself. I thought she would outlive me to be honest! So it was probably about a year ago that Dad's health had rapidly declined... We knew he wasn't going to really recover. My sister and I would fly home to visit as often as we could, but Aunt Rea was the main caregiver. I went to video him on Father's Day of last year and went home with tears running down my face because o truly felt in my heart that would be the last time I would ever see my Dad. And when he was suffering he was mean. He would lash out at my sister and me. He was a proud man and he didn't want anyone coddling him. But he would allow Aunt Rea to tend to him. He was her little brother and I think that's how their relationship always was. So, that last visit Aunt Rea drove me to the airport and we had a serious talk about Dad's health decline and his wishes.
I thanked her for always being there for Dad. We talked about how different life would be without him, and how we would be there for each other once Dad did pass. I remember the tears coming down my face, and her hair blowing in the wind as we held each other in a tight hug goodbye. I was crying because I thought I would never see Dad again. I never in a million years would've thought that that hug at the airport would be the very last time I would see Aunt Rea again. She was in very good health... As far as I could remember she never really got sick at all, not even a cold. I know that she had never checked herself into a hospital... At least not in my lifetime. So a week goes by and Daddy is still holding on. I talked to Aunt Rea on I believe it was a Friday. She sounded perfectly fine and chipper as always. The following Monday (3 days since our phone call) I get a call from my sister who sounds really upset. At first I thought she was calling to tell me Dad passed away. But she told me Aunt Rea was in the hospital. She said that she didn't know any real details, but the family said it didn't seem too serious... I mean, it was serious, but not fatal, and that Aunt Rea asked her sisters and Dad "not to call the girls" because she didn't want us to make a fuss and get all upset over her being sick, when she thought she was going to be just fine. Then, suddenly (on the day she was supposed to be getting released from the hospital) something went wrong, her blood pressure dropped down so low she went into a coma state, and had to be put on a breathing machine and have a food tube put in her. It just suddenly happened out of no where. I was called by my sister on a Monday to tell me that Aunt Rea is sick, and 4 days later... She was gone. We didn't even get to see her one last time to even say goodbye. It was so shocking and devestating. When I think back on that time during the wake and funeral, it was all just a hazy dreamlike realm. I felt so disconnected. Nothing felt real. Aunt Rea was our rock and we thought she would be around forever. So Melissa and I came back home to Florida and decided we would stay for as long as Dad could hang on so that we could tend to him. Dad wanted to make sure that all of his legal obligations were met, because he really wanted to make sure my sister and I were protected. The one last major thing he really wanted to do was to go on a trip to the mountains of North Carolina, because he had never been before. We rented a van and my sister and I took him to those gorgeous mountains for a week. During our stay, he had a really bad bleed out and had to be lifted lighted to the nearest hospital. I prayed that he would make it, just for few more days until we could get him home... But I really didn't think he would pull through. He was strong though, and he was determined to pass away in his own bed, on his property overlooking the creek... And although he lost a lot of blood and he was weak, he held on. We rested in the cabin for another day or two and he said he felt well enough to drive us home, and although my sister and I were a little nervous about letting him get behind the wheel, we just couldn't tell him No. And Dad was in a great mood, and he drove perfectly fine, we all laughed and talked all the way home (which was a 2 day trip with an overnight stay). Then, when we got home that afternoon, Dad and I watched movies. I gave him a long foot rub and when night came I have him his meds and tucked him into bed. I checked on him every hour thoughout the night and he seemed to be sleeping fine. At 7 AM the next morning I woke him up and he told me he was not in a good way. He began to lose control of his eyes, his voice, his body. My sister and I talked with him and tried to comfort him as best we could. We took turns sitting with him and we told him everything we wanted to tell him. He died that afternoon around 4. And even though we had years to try to prepare for that moment, there's nothing you can do to make the pain any less. Dad died three weeks after Aunt Rea. And my sister has been named executor of the estate and I've been trying to help her as best as I can, but things have gotten really ugly. I guess I shouldn't publicly go into details about all of this while we are going through the probate process, but I will say that things have gotten really nasty. We've had more than one family member tell my sister and I that we were nothing, because we were adopted we aren't even actual family. They think there's a huge monitory gain in it for them, and they will say and do nearly anything to get what they think there is to get. Little do they know there is far far less money than they are thinking there is. But they've stripped out our childhood home, from the furniture, to the freezer, to the washer and dryer, down to the salt and pepper. And they are entitled to do that because the Will was written 34 years ago, which was before we were even born... So my sister and I do not have a say in what happens to our family's home. Dad and Aunt Rea's sister's are taking everything they can, without regards to any sort of consideration, and we just have to stand on the sidelines and watch them do whatever they like. So 2 days ago I came back to my home. I feel so alone without my parents. We lost Aunt Rea 5.5 months ago, and we lost Dad 3 weeks after Aunt Rea. We lost our home, we lost people whom we thought were our family... It feels like we lost everything. I am consumed by perpetual fear and anxiety. I don't even like to drive because I'm afraid I'm going to have a panic attack while driving and I will cause an accident. I don't know who to turn to, or how to start getting back into living a normal sort of life. I just feel so broken, and I don't know how to make anything better.

Parent Loss / Re: Introductions
« on: January 20, 2016, 11:36:49 PM »
Hello everyone. My name is Jessica. I am 32 years old, and I have a sister who is 34 years old. 6 months ago my mother figure died unexpectedly. It was shocking for everyone. 3 weeks after my mother figure died, my father lost his battle against cancer and he passed away. Our family has fallen apart and now my sister and I are about to lose our home that we grew up in. There have been so many responsibilities and conflicts that have been put on us as we try to settle the legal aspects of the estate that I feel neither my sister nor I have even had an opportunity to begin to truly grieve. I feel very much alone in this world. I have fear and anxiety about nearly everything now. I feel like I'm just waiting for the next tragedy to strike. I don't know what my sister or I should do in order to get back on track and begin to live a normal type life.

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