The day my father died of prostate cancer. I thought he would beat it because he told me he would. When his heart stopped, I just stood there stunned. His birthday was Dec. 25th so Christmas is always bitter sweet. I don't know if I will ever get over his death.
I've lost my mom, dad, brother and sister. However, my worst was last week when my husband of 25 years was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease. This will be a really hard fight. And, we are fighting this, with great doctors and treatment. Hopefully, he will not have rapid progression.
I am so very sorry for all the losses everyone has suffered, and the incredible challenges people like KathyR's husband must face.
My darkest day by far was the day I called my sister to ask her what she wanted for dinner, thinking she was having lunch with a friend, only to hear a man's voice say, "There's been an accident."
I didn't believe him and I chastized him for playing such a horrible joke on someone's phone. Then he said, My name is Detective Dorch and if you will call my cell phone, I'm holding it in my other hand and I'll answer." I did, and discovered that my beloved sister who had been staying with me to escape from an abusive husband was dead: pushed? jumped? from a building in downtown Boston leaving behind darling 9 year old girls and heartbroken parents, sisters and brother. The husband...he wouldn't even go into the city to identify her body but he refused to release her to me, despite my begging him not to leave her in the unclaimed body room at the morgue. Monster.
Nothing in life can prepare you for that kind of shock. Five years later, there are moments when it's as fresh as it was then. I thank God for my horses because they got me out of bed every day when I just wanted the world to stop, the pain of her suffering and loss was so great.
Kind thoughts and all good compassion to all—tender prayers for those who would accept them.
Kind of hard to pick just one:
When I was 10 my father had a massive heart attack and spent the next 10 years dying slowly. My mother used the occasion to become a Jekyll and Hyde alcoholic who could rip me to pieces and not think twice about it. I was an only child.
When I was 20 my father died and leaving me alone to care for my drunken mother who, soon ended up wheelchair bound due to a drunken fall. Her hate of me and demands that I care for her only increased.
She died 5 years later, 3 months before my wedding because she failed to get a multi-million dollar settlement on the default payments for the sale of my father’s international manufacturing co.
The only three children I could ever conceive died before they could even draw a breath. The conditions they died from left me unable to conceive.
After 10 years of marriage, I caught my pastor husband having sex with, what turned out to be, many women in two parishes he served.
We were in the process of adopting at the time. Divorcing him meant I’d, likely as, never have children. 20 years later, that is true.
About two years later, my “family” – adopted aunts and uncles and cousins – let me know, through a series of events, that they never considered me a member of the “family.”
I’ve been alone in the world ever since.
Growing up among folks with plenty of money, power and access, and, observing that honestly, they were/are miserable and not the best human beings; lots and lots and lots of therapy, 25 years of spiritual direction and, I truly believe, a really good gene pool allowed me to find that the secret to living well amid such loss and betrayal is finding where my best gifts meet the world’s greatest needs. For me, that’s as a Chaplain in behavior health (psychiatry) and perinatal bereavement. On the weekend, I volunteer at a homeless shelter for the un-medicated chronically mentally ill.
Prayers, hugs and kind thoughts to all who have endured so much. I went through a really dark period a couple of years ago, when a series of events made me wonder if someone "up there" really had it in for me. Compared to many others, my personal tragedies don't seem too bad, but when you are immersed in them at that time, it feels like constant drowning. It's taken quite a while to really get right, but in all the months of pretending to be happy and okay, I found how to actually be happy and okay.
I sincerely wish the best for all who have posted. I'm mostly a lurker, but I regularly enjoy reading the witty and intelligent posts of so many of you.
It seems to be an all-way tie for the darkest day of my life. My Mom died of an infection in 2008. My sister is doing her usual banish family at Christmas/bah humbug thing. She has crushed me for the last time. There's a few other darkest days that I won't bore you guys with.
If I did not believe what I believe, I would have put a stop to this joke called "life" by now. On reflection, I would say the darkest day in my life was the day that I was born - no contest.
Prayers are being sent to every single one of you. I hope others that are of faith will do the same. Pocket Pony, I am glad you are still here as are others. I will pray for your continued strength. Again, God bless you all. I will be praying for every single one of you separately.
Maria Hayes-Frosty Oak Stables
Home to All Eyez On Me, 1998 16.2 Cleveland Bay Sporthorse Stallion
& FrostyOak Hampton 2008 Pure Cleveland Bay Colt www.frostyoaks.com
my darkest day yet was the day i lost my dad to Gehrig's 8 years ago, 12/9/04. my son was only 9 months old, and will never get to know his grandfather. but in comparison to so many, i have had a truly blessed life, and i do know that. you're all in my prayers.
Mine was when my father died. I was 16 and a junior in high school. It didn't exactly come as a surprise because he'd battled cancer for six years, and was very very sick by then. My mom had actually kept me out of school one day the week prior because she really thought that day was the end.
That morning I was running very late for school - I'd woken up really late and was scrambling around trying to get ready. In my hurry, I ran past my dad's room (he had a hospital bed in the house and a home nurse who came by every day, so he was set up in our guest room) and sort of called good-bye to him on the way. I didn't stop to hug him or tell him I loved him, just "Oh sh*t I'm late, bye Dad!" I have beat myself up countless times since that day because that turned out to be it. My older brother and my aunt showed up at school during my 2nd period art class to take me home.
I've always been close to my family, so we all had each other, but losing my dad ripped a huge gaping hole inside me. I locked myself in my room for a week after he died and wouldn't come out except to go to the funeral. When I finally went back to school I would either sit there like a rock and tune the teacher out or I'd start crying in the middle of class and have to go to the bathroom to calm down. My teachers were all very understanding and kind of let me do things my own way.
Jan 8th will be 12 years since he died, and I am fairly certain I'm a different person as an adult than I would have been if he were still here. It's only been in the last few years that I've truly been at peace with losing my dad. I do get really bad anxiety at times, which is probably related. I was an anxious kid too, and I think watching the fight with cancer for many years and then losing my dad, just made it worse.
I get really sad when I think of the fact that my dad never got to meet my SO, he won't be at my (someday) wedding, won't watch me have kids. He didn't see me graduate high school, he didn't get to meet my niece and nephews. He didn't get to meet my horse, although he did see pictures and videos of him.
I don't go to church and am not super religous, but I do like to think of my dad as a guardian angel of sorts. Makes me happy and comforted.
My first darkest day was Jan. 18, 1988, I was out east and my beloved Grandpa passed away. My Mom told me I had to stay where I was as she was afraid I would loose my job. The people I worked for said they had no problem and would fly me home. I made the choice to stay out there as it is what my Mom wanted. I was extremely close to him. There hasn't been a day that has gone by that I don't think of him. I beat myself up because I was the one that kept myself from having closure.
My second was November 12, 2007 when I had my accident wich has forever changed my life.