Real Talk

[D44kpunk]

Feel sorry for anyone who's been through traumatic death tbh

[Day]

Did dimmys wife die

[Dimmauk]

Seeing my father dying was rough, not just the loss, but all the hurt that he had caused came festering up again. I didn't speak at his funeral. I didn't have anything to say, and it was tough listening to all the great and wonderful things he did with my brothers and sister. It was very awkward because I was his first child and I have the same name.

[Day]

Sorry I said your wife is hot Dimmy

[Dimmauk]

Sorry I said your wife is hot Dimmy

She is very much alive and smoking hot

[BaneTheBrawler]

i've been extremely fortunate in this regard. My parents are still alive and mostly doing okay. But I worry about them. My Dad was apparently extremely sick the last week or so, to the point where he had to go to the ER. And he cracked a rib doing projects around the house a few weeks ago. And my Mom's knees and fibromayalgia pretty regularly fuck with her.

I've lost my grandparents and, more recently, my 2nd cousin. I loved them, but we weren't especially close and they were all old, so it didn't hit me all that hard.

The most impactful death I've had in my life was my childhood friend, who I posted about. Same age as me. Died a few years ago now. It still feels weird to think that he's just... not there. Sometimes I'll have a dream and he's in it and I'll wake up and think his passing was a dream, too, for a little while. My memory is pretty fuzzy when it comes to my long-term timeline, so until i fully wake up it seems plausible. I miss him. Even though we'd kinda drifted apart, we still occasionally chatted on Steam. He'd have been pretty excited to see me going back to school, and I think he'd have gotten a kick out of my major of choice. I can just imagine him cracking a joke about how now I can help him get away with shit.

I always regret not spending more time with the person who passed. But I suppose that's just how it is. Try to focus on the time we did spend together, yeah?

[Melena]

My Nana passing was rough for me. She lingered for about 3 months after suffering a massive stroke while gardening at age 92. Visiting her in the nursing home, it was hell knowing her memories were all jumbled. Astylla and I were only married for 1 month and she wasn't able to come to the wedding, so she only saw some of the pictures about a week before the stroke. Visiting her, she'd ask how our kids were (we have none), remind me she has a roast in the oven for me, etc. Was not fun at all. Her passing was almost a relief as I knew she wasn't suffering. I still believe something clicked and she realized she was in a nursing home, which she hoped to never have to endure as she just stopped eating, so her body shut down.

The other rough one for me was my Captain at the Sheriff's office who I was friends with since high school. I knew from chatting with my old commander when I would run into him at Chipolte that he was under a lot of stress between a pending divorce, taking over EOD, along with his normal day to day stuff, but seemed to be doing better when he switched to overnight shifts which gave him more time with his kids. Wife and I were at Disneyland when she got the e-mail that he passed and she showed it to me, and I knew immediately by the verbiage it was suicide, which I confirmed two days later. Two weeks later I'm sitting at his funeral and realizing at age 40, I've now gone to my first funeral where the person was the same age as you. Think part of that is a bit of guilt as I lost contact with him after I promoted to a different agency, and every time I found myself at where I last knew he was stationed, I found out he promoted and transferred again. So we never had a last chat about upcoming metal concerts or D&D games he had lined up with friends.

[Roranora]

In high school, a friend just fell down and died one evening. Heart failure. He was 17. My first real death I experienced and one of those early lessons life's not all fair or can be understood. His deviant art page can still make me weep.

A few years into college, I had my first proper breakup. No real big deal given enough time but man I was a mess for a bit.

Seven years ago my cousin was killed in a car crash, and our small family (and some of her friends) all took in a pet of hers. She had multiple cats and multiple dogs. My sister recently put down dead cousin's doggo Buffet, and it felt like her death was relived in a way. She was 28. That doggo was so fucking precious.

Another tangential family member died after she fell into an icy lake. Her dog momentarily ran off across the ice, and she quickly followed without thinking about the ice or its thickness. She was 28. My cousin has lost her younger sister and sister-in-law.

A good friend of more recent times was killed in a crash by a drunk driver at 7pm on a Monday a couple years ago. Some gang initiation-type shit -- go as fast as you can til you crash. She was 28. She was the epitome of the "only the good die young" sentiment, and was always gentle, patient, understanding, never judgmental, etc.

Also scattered in there are lesser well-known friends and/or friends of friends killed while drunk driving. Ryan got on the highway going the wrong way, Kelly died on his 21st birthday, and Luis rolled off the off-ramp. We all shant forget driving is the most dangerous thing we do every day.

I haven't lost parents or grandparents yet, so I'm comparatively fortunate in that respect. I have friends who've lost parents, and my heart breaks for them and members here with similar loss.

Personal injury-wise, in 2008, I was in a car crash and broke my face. A liquid-only diet for 8 months was just the start of about 4 years of facial reconstruction, the first half of which happened during the final years of college. Unable to speak clearly or make certain consonant sounds with a hole in my face, I think I more quickly grew up and gained a degree of social resilience I might not have otherwise. This was also ultimately no big deal and perhaps even something for which I'm grateful to an extent, but it took a lot of pain and patience and a fair amount of USD to get to that point.

[Roranora]

If you want to lose weight, breaking one's face should do the trick.

[Abandon]

My mother died when i was 6. Breast cancer that spread throughout her entire body. I was too young to process what had happened, and was emotionally damaged up until maybe a year or 2 ago. For all that time, i didn't cry to anything other than pain from all the ass whoopins i used to get. Nothing ever bothered me until i was sitting down watching Parks and Rec, go figure. Episode when rashida left the show, and i started crying out of nowhere. Still a process, learning how to emotionally respond to outside stimuli, while still learning to cope with my loss.

[Demosthenes]

My grandfather who was also ridiculously fair. Grandpa was nicknamed fifty-fifty because as a businessman, he was 100% fair and would not take more than he knew he deserved. He'd sue the state (at great cost to himself) on behalf of less capable people if he felt the state was being unfair to them.

He's the on my dad got it from. My dad is the most just man I knew. He was a phenomenal dude, took financial care of his and my mom's extended families around the globe. He was also a ridiculously good dad and people loved him wherever he went.

My dad got liver cancer in 98 and three months was all he got. It was a rough three months and he spiraled from his standard look down to skin and bones. The last time I saw him was at Baltimore Washington International. He knew where he wanted to be buried and he went to go die there, so I didn't get to see him the last 2 weeks. I haven't been to his grave.

Shit fucked me up my last two years of highschool and five plus years after that. I sometimes look at my son and get super emotional that he never got to meet his grandson, my wife or my in-laws. I get wrecked thinking about how he never got to see the man I became.

He's the reason I am the way I am. I am big on making friends wherever I go. I travel as much as he did. I'm as fair and just as I can be, and I give a shit about people that are not me, especially people that have less than I do or a treated worse for being minorities.

Ain't spell checking that shit.

[Demosthenes]

Dad-son movies absolutely wreck me and I have a complex about being as good a father to my son as he was to me.

[Dimmauk]

My mother died when i was 6. Breast cancer that spread throughout her entire body. I was too young to process what had happened, and was emotionally damaged up until maybe a year or 2 ago. For all that time, i didn't cry to anything other than pain from all the ass whoopins i used to get. Nothing ever bothered me until i was sitting down watching Parks and Rec, go figure. Episode when rashida left the show, and i started crying out of nowhere. Still a process, learning how to emotionally respond to outside stimuli, while still learning to cope with my loss.

I was the same way due to years of physical, emotional and mental abuse. I was an emotional void, which was difficult for my wife. But then we had our daughter and that wall came crumbling down. Now i get Furkempt was dumb sappy commercials. LOL

[Abandon]

Yeah man. A few close friends recognized what was wrong with me then, and to this day, check in on me to make sure i'm not reacting to shit in an un-natural way, lol. I still need the occasional "hey dude, this one isn't actually funny, you should ask her how she feels" nudge.

[Demosthenes]

Dad is basically the reason I wanted a kid (biological or not), because I felt not passing the kind of experiences he gave me to someone else would be ridiculously selfish of me.

[Demosthenes]

My brother died when I was 14, he was 16. Had some lung complications and when they tried to do surgery they punctured his lung. Got sick and died, dad and step mom divorced afterwards.

Think it's weird seeing someone so young and close to you in age die, not to mention the malpractice stuff and sibling stuff

FUCK! The only nightmares I have involve my siblings getting hurt or dying.

[BerenTebogo]

Waking up every morning to not being as rich as Trump

[AoE]

FUCK! The only nightmares I have involve my siblings getting hurt or dying.

I remember having a nightmare about my baby brother and did a full sprint out of bed to his room before I processed that it was just a dream.

[Zealot]

I had a nightmare not long ago about being in a house where Death lived and you had to follow certain rules so it wouldn't find you. Then a couple nights ago I was having a completely unrelated dream but in it I stopped and visited the house, my own brain making a cinematic universe.

Sent from my SM-N960U using Tapatalk

[Tokitoki]

I have two that would be the largest impact on my life, but many deaths in the family. paternal grandfather died just before my 4th birthday. I only have one memory of him. Paternal grandma died of brain cancer, she wasn't able to swallow at the end. Maternal grandmother had heart issues and eventually passed after my grandfather. Father-in-law had a long fight with cancer and seeing him deteriorate was terrible, but I had also been through it before.

The worst two were my mom and grandfather (Pop).

Pop was almost 91 when he died. He fought leukemia for 18/19 years until he finally gave in. He was a strong, stubborn old Irishman who protected his family and looked out for others. He was lucky to have grown up in a rural part of Ireland with his father being a caretaker for a wealthy family. Pop would go hunting or fishing with the wealthy guy when he was a kid. During WW2 he was in London during the London bombings and told me stories of working all day trying to remove rubble and finding survivors. At the end of the day they'd go to a pub and you'd just eat whatever they had. Horse was most common, but there were mystery meats as well. He told me about how he used to get stopped on the side of the road by the mafia in NYC while he was working as a union rep for the butcher's union. They'd throw a sack on his head and bring him to meet whatever hotshot it was. After they were done with him, they'd bring him back to his car. After college I was working part time as I tried to find a full time job in my field. I was charged with helping my grandparents get to doctors appointments and random chores around the house. It was the car rides with my pop when he was finally letting his guard done a bit. Talking about how painful it was, none of his shoes ever fit, he felt like he was on fire from the chemo, he was ready to just be done. Every couple days I'd bring him to the outpatient oncology center for his treatments and it was always the same. I spent more time with him at the end than anyone else in the family, listening to his stories, his complaints, and watching as he slipped away more and more. After we brought his casket out of the funeral mass I just stood and cried for a while.

My mom was an alcoholic. It probably started when I was in middle school, but I didn't understand at the time. One night in particular sticks out to me now. I was in 8th grade or so, playing CS in the basement around midnight. I had been playing most of the night and it was late so I decided I'd head to bed. While I was in the process of shutting down the computer my mom came down the stairs. As she saw me shut the computer down she started accusing me of looking at porn or doing something I shouldn't have been doing. I told her I had been playing games all night and was tired so I wanted to go to bed. She didn't believe me and blocked the door. I asked her to move so I could go to bed several times and she refused. I was a pretty small kid, so I tried to squeeze by her to get out of the room, but that just set her off. She shoved me back into the room and pinned me against the couch. Yelling for my dad saying I attacked her. I was crying at this point saying I just wanted to go to bed. My dad get her off me and let me out of the room. They argued for a while after, with my mom saying she wanted a divorce and she never wanted to be married. My dad snapping back that she never said anything to him and that she should just go to bed. The next day my dad and I spent the entire day away from the house. We went to see 8 Mile, got dinner somewhere, just didn't go home until late at night.

She went through rehab several times, went to AA meetings, she'd stay up late drinking bottles of vodka. To this day I refuse to drink it. She would accidentally give me vodka and seltzer in a cup when I would ask for seltzer and I hated the taste. I would get home from high school and she would start yelling, then break down crying apologizing. I'd cry too, trying to convince her to go back to rehab, to go to meetings, to stop doing this, that it would kill her. She'd make empty promises and go back to drinking the same night. She endangered my friends, picking us up from school or practice after she'd been drinking. The summer before senior year none of my friends called me all summer. No texts, no messages, nobody reached out because they didn't want to be associated with me or my mom. I shut myself in the house playing FFXI. It definitely wasn't healthy, but it was better than being with people that didn't want you there or dealing with a drunk parent. Eventually she went on "disability" and drunk her days away. She separated from my dad, moved to South Carolina from New York, but still came back to the house almost every week. One night she came back to the house and collapsed on the floor. She went into the hospital after that with kidney and liver failure and never made it out. Everything Day said in that post from years ago struck a chord with me as well. It described everything my mom went through as well.

She begged to be brought back home when she was conscious, but it would have been so much worse. Her cousin was a nurse with NYU's neurology department and said not to bring her home because it would fuck up my younger brother. I got some time to speak with her and say our goodbyes, but it never felt final. I didn't feel satisfied. My brother couldn't bring himself to go and visit. He would come once a week for the 3 weeks or so she was in the hospital/hospice, while I went every day after work. Eventually she was just never regaining consciousness.

She went into the hospital the week leading up to Mother's Day and her birthday and died Memorial Day weekend.

She didn't see me get married, she never met her granddaughter, she didn't see my brother graduate from High School, or meet his terrible first girlfriend. It makes me mad, and sad, and feel guilty. She was an abusive part of my life, and something that I was embarrassed about for so long, but she was also my mom and I loved her anyway.

After her funeral I was going through voicemails because some of my college friends were actually reaching out and concerned why they hadn't heard from my wife and I recently. As I was going through messages I hit an old one from my mom. Hearing her voice made me break and I couldn't help but immediately delete the voicemail. Afterwards I regretted it and called my mom's phone to hear her voice on her outgoing message again, but my dad picked up. I was too embarrassed to say I wanted to hear her one more time, and I regret that I didn't now.

Tldr; Mom was an alcoholic and verbally abusive. Had a terrible relationship when I was out of high school, but watchinh her die due to the kidney and liver failure from alcoholism was brutal. Still regret the way thing ended, didn't really feel like we got closure.

Grandfather was a stubborn old Irishman that fought leukemia for 18 years until he told me he was done and ready to just die.