I've seen my dad on exactly two occasions since 2010. Both times he was ill. Once in 2012 and once in 2016 when I got to introduce him to my 6 month old son.
It was conscious choice, to go non contact. He was toxic, poisonous and abusive in a number of different ways in our family home. I moved 300 miles away to university and never went home because of him.
I knew he was in a care home and I knew he had dementia. Other family members would send photos and updates every now and then. I would write letters and send photos of my son on birthdays, Christmasses, Fathers Day etc.
Saturday 23rd February I got messages at work to say he had gone rapidly down hill. It made me feel terrible. Not guilty, I understand the choices I made and would make them again, but... he was my dad.
I booked to travel down and see him the following Monday, believing I had time. That Thursday, though, I had a message saying he wouldn't last the weekend. I threw my 2.5 year old in my car and we drove the 270 miles to my brothers house, thinking we would go together to see him on Friday. by 10pm that night, we had another message saying we had to get there, now.
Even though we made the two hour journey, we were about half an hour too late and my dad died. He looked peaceful and had died surrounded by his sister and her daughters, who adored him.
I thought I was ok and had said my goodbyes the last time I saw him but it still really hurts. I've had strange illnesses since then, one vomiting bug and one odd flu like virus. I'm just so sad.
The funeral is in a week or so and I anticipate feeling a little better after that. It's just a sad thing. I don't even know why I'm posting really - I just don't feel like I have the right to talk about it out loud.