Dear Dad, I'm just trying to survive taking care of you + mom with patience, compassion, love, and humor... but it's really hard. ...
Dear Dad, Hi. I miss you. It's been a few days. After you left, a storm warning came in and the sky went from blue to gray within 30 minutes. The heavy rain was pouring down hard. I didn't even notice the changes in the sky because I was on the phone: With the hospice call line, with the nurse that just left us, with family members, with friends. I just remember sitting on the couch next to where…
Dear Dad, You left us at 3:49p on Friday, August 7, 2026. Me, mom, and Kuya were with you. Thank you for allowing yourself to rest, you really truly deserve it after all you've done for the people you love. Thank you for everything you've done for us. Thank you for having me. Thank you for being my dad. I will write to you more. I love you so much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Chloe
Dear Dad, Today you barely would eat or drink. I tried EVERYTHING. I was literally yapping yesterday about how I learned you should be as upright as possible for your meals — but today you still had your eyes closed when I sat you up. It's been a long day. And all you've been doing is sleeping. Mom's officially sick — she's on antibiotics, something called Safe-Tussin for her congestion, and some…
Dear Dad, The more stressed out I am each day, the more I realize I'm also learning. Last night both you and mom were coughing in your sleep so when I woke up this morning told mom she had to go to either the ER or to urgent care and she chose the latter. I scrambled with how to get her there as your aide arrived. Kuya can't do it because he has work, the aide doesn't stay for anything other than…
Dear Dad, I'm sorry I haven't written in a few days. I don't know what to write. I'm sort of scared to. Right now you're in your bed snoring. When I don't hear a snore, I check the camera and watch you for movement and feel relieved when either you move your hands or a snore escapes your mouth. It's been a month and a few days of in-home hospice. This morning when the aide came for your daily…
Dear Dad, The weather yesterday was gray, thunderstorms, on and off rain. You were slow, malaise, and refused food and water. At 3pm it was pitch dark outside. It oddly enhanced the mood. It felt like you were dying. Mom felt it too. We spent the afternoon at your bedside, talking to you, holding your hands, trying to coax you into taking bites of muffins, pudding, rice, pasta — whateverrrrr, as…
Dear Dad, After talking to your nurse yesterday, we decided that most of your care will continue in your bedroom from now on. We've been slowly leading you to the kitchen (with much difficulty) after previous discussions focused on fixing your nighttime wandering and daytime sleeping (we were previously instructed to keep you awake during the day, from 10-5pm at the very least) — but now that plan…
Dear Dad, Where do I begin? I know I wrote you a letter at some point last week but with the evening drawing to a close (and I only know this because it's dark outside), I'm still lost in time. I feel like I have no idea what day it is or what time it is anymore and I've felt like that for a while now. Today was the same as usual... usual being our new normal — you in in-home hospice. It's been a…
Dear Dad, Hi. I'm so sleepy. Last night we had trouble giving you medicine because mom wanted to prioritize changing your clothes over giving you meds, which makes sense... logically but when medicines are crushed, they lose their potency which is exactly what happened and you were up all night. You no longer wander about — too drugged up, which is exactly what I didn't want but I also don't know…
Dear Dad, Physically, we're in the kitchen. You're in your chair using your nails to click click click on a plastic bowl I've bought you to Dean Martin's "That's Amore" blasting from the Echo. I am overstimulated in every possible way. Mentally, I don't know where you are — you want my attention but I've given it since 10am this morning and it's currently 3p. I'm spent. I'm sore. You've punched…