I watched both of my grandmothers die in hospitals.

One more heart wrenching thing that I forgot. On Sunday they moved us out of the ICU into a room that Marc and I called the "waiting room." It was on the 14th floor and was exclusively for patients that were waiting to pass. No drugs outside of morphine and no monitors at all. The nurses would just take vitals every eight hours.

As they were transferring her from her bed to her moveable bed to take her to the waiting room, one solitary tear rolled down her cheek. That was tough.

There is no God. If there is, he's not the Santa Claus every one thinks he is. He gives not a fuck about our suffering.

I watched both of my grandmothers die in hospitals. One of them I was unlucky enough to be the last one she spoke to. Her last words? "I'm scared". I watched the other one scream for her father who had been dead before I was born. She sounded like a little girl.

There is no God. If there is, he's not the Santa Claus every one thinks he is. He gives not a fuck about our suffering.

He gives not a fuck about our suffering.

I asked how long she would have if they took her off the breathing machine and he estimated a half hour. That's when it became very real to me. If I agreed to it, my mother would be dead in 30 minutes. I thought about it for a minute or two while he was on the phone before agreeing to it, knowing that it was the right thing to do. Still, saying it and actually doing it are two very different things.

Man oh man...that made me get misty-eyed thinking about when that day might come with my parents.

I sit here....not really sure what to type. There's a ton of thoughts flying through my head, and I've had a lot of thoughts recently about how I might feel and act when my parents start to go down hill.

I remember before my grandfather passed, he started getting dementia and would call my father (his son), my cousins name. Sometimes he didn't even recognize his own son. I didn't really pay much attention to it, until it hit me in the stomach one day....that's going to be me.

I felt like I needed to sit down. It's hard for me to deal with that.

Honestly, I still cling to the fantasy. I don't care how immature it sounds...my parents are both still superheroes in my eyes.

I think when we grow up, Mom & Dad are untouchable (at least in my experience) in our eyes. They make all the right decisions, they create a feeling of comfort, of SAFETY. It shook my reality a little bit when I realized that they are indeed not perfect, that they make mistakes, and don't have all the answers.

A lot of that is related to my childhood, which was awesome....so my perception is going to be biased, but I think everyone at a young age, regards their parents as superheroes.

I just choose to cling to that fantasy now. I know in my heart it's probably not completely right, but it makes me feel better to believe it.

I remember asking my father one time how in the world he could deal with his father starting to slide...."You just do." is what he told me.

I know I'm going to absolutely go off the deep end when my mother is gone. So I guess what I'm trying to say is MAN, I'm really sorry you're going through this, and I'll keep everyone involved in my thoughts and prayers.

I know the above is all jumbled up, and doesn't make any sense...but I thought it might help.

You try to prepare yourself as much as you can, but nothing can really prepare you. We had to make the decision for my mother to stop the machines. They told us it could be minutes. It was 5 days. I think I took comfort in her being so out of it before whe was put on the vent so I felt as though she did not know what was going on. I hoped. We had to make the decision for my sister. When they took her off the vent it was like she wasn't even sick, but we knew her lungs were going to fill back up with fluid and we would lose her. It was less than 24 hours. She was awake, coherent and trying to comfort us for much of it until she fell asleep for the last time. It still haunts me. Especially because she didnt want to die on my birthday, but she did. She was my best friend. My everything. My father died tragically in a fire. It took a while to process that one. Nothing can prepare you for the death of a loved one, but knowing they are not suffering any longer helps you deal with it after it happens. I hurt so much for Adam. I consider him a dear friend and he was there for me when I lost my loved ones. I wish there was something I could do.... but I know I can't.