My dad died 11 years ago. He had been ill for 11 years before that - diagnosed with cancer when he was 50.
For background (dont know if its relevant) He married his second wife who was 20 years younger than him and only a few years older than me, around 2 years before the diagnosis.
My relationship with my dad had always been difficult for various reasons but he apologised when I was late 20s and we made peace.
His wife accepted my brother and me for my dad's sake. We were never close but no problems either.
At the time of his death, he and his wife had two small children conceived while he was ill and on the express understanding that they would be brought up knowing my brother, me and our respective children. She agreed to this.
I was the only person to see him alive the day he died. He had gone into hospital as had happened many times over the prevoous few years. But it was clear to me that, this time, he was dying. He was disoriented - kept indicating he wanted the light turning on when it was already on; wasn't eating or drinking (later found out he'd been put on the recently introduced (I believe) Liverpool pathway but we weren't informed of this); he had puncture type wounds in his lower legs which were leaking fluid.
I told my brother but he was in denial and kept saying he'd visit tomorrow. I told my dad's wife but she was going on a three week holiday on the other side of the world the following afternoon and was still convinced they were going to transfer him to respite care before then. They weren't.
I went home when visiting hours ended. He wasn't aware I was there. My then husband asked if I wanted to open a bottle of wine to unwind and i said I couldn't because we were going to get the call that night.
We did. At 11.25pm, the hospital called and said we needed to go in. I arrived at the hospital at 11.45pm. A nurse opened the ward door, smiled at me and said, "Oh you're too late. He's just gone."
I went in and he looked no different to he had earlier in the day but at peace. My brother turned up shortly after. And was inconsolable. He spent ages in the room talking to our dad. I couldn't stay because he was talking about a dad who didn't really exist when we were growing up and only really became a dad to us in our 20s (hed always been there but we had no relationship). I also just kept thinking that my dad wasn't there anymore anyway. I felt relieved that his suffering was over but that was it.
At 2pm the following afternoon, his widow boarded the flight as planned for her three week holiday with the children.
My brother was useless! So angry that "we'd" been left with all the official bits that he just ranted about it while I contacted the funeral directors and collected paperwork, notified people. All that stuff.
I had to liaise with his widow about the funeral. No one really wanted to deal with me because I wasn't next of kin. I had questions to answer, had to explain why she wasn't there, was treated like I was stepping outside of my lane quite a lot by everyone except the funeral directors who were great.
The funeral took place the week after she returned. In that week, we had no contact from her. We weren't invited to give a eulogy or speak or be involved in any way. She had written a eulogy or the celebrant had based on her information I don't remember which. And he read it out. There was no mention of me or brother or our children or my dad being a grandad except for a very brief sentence after lots of talk about their wonderful marriage and wonderful children. It was something like, "but he hadn't always had a happy life. He was previously married to X, an unhappy union from which he had two children (our names) and three grandchildren"
He was cremated.
Neither his widow nor her parents (who we'd known for 20+ years by then) spoke to any of us. No one else at the funeral really spoke to us. Some of them didn't appear to know we even existed because they approached us at the funeral to ask how we'd known him. We told them and all we got was a surprised "Oh. I didn't know he had any other children" before they walked off. My brother and I were in our mid and late 30s.
We went to the wake. Again, everyone ignored us. It was like we weren't even there. We stayed for half an hour and left.
My husband and I split up between my dad dying and his funeral so my mother in law came instead of him as support. She was lovely and it was only at her insistence that we sat at the front at the funeral. It was so uncomfortable. We were aware of people looking at us. Probably wondering why we were sitting in seats reserved for family.
She spoke to his widow's parents (who she'd also met several times and got on with well) and said she hoped the children would all grow up knowing each other but it was obvious form the way they behaved at the funeral that the relationship between us all had already ended.
The following month, my dad's ashes were interred at his parents grave. That was the last time we saw his widow and our half sisters.
My brother tried for a couple of years to maintain contact and meet up but she always refused or ignored his requests. In the end, he gave up.
We've never been back to the grave. Tbh, I've even forgotten the name of the cemetery now.
We had to cut contact with our mum earlier the same year due to years of emotional abuse that eventually presented as safeguarding concerns around her and the children. In the space of 4 months, I lost nearly all of my family - my mum, my dad, his wife/widow, my half sisters, my husband (and ultimately his entire family). Just me, my brother, his wife and our children were left.
I'm finding this is weighing more heavily on my mind 11 years on than it ever had done before. I have nightmares about my mum still being in our lives. I feel an odd nothingness about my dad except that his final wishes regarding his young children weren't honoured. And a regret that I didn't tell him it was ok to go now earlier in the day he died. I have felt anchorless for so long. Like a helium balloon just drifting. I have my own children who are now and adult and late teens. I have a brother but we only see each other a couple of times a year with little contact in between.
I don't even feel sad. Just an odd nothingness and I always have. Never grieved. Never cried. I don't miss any of them.
I don't really expect anything from this but I've ever really expressed it all either. Thank you for reading if you made it to the end!