This past week has been a difficult one. Promoting my book has taken over my life a bit, which is exactly what needs to happen. The downside is I have been using that as an excuse not to workout much. My eating has been great, and that has completely saved me!
Red and I took a road trip to Virginia to promote the book, and I must say, I am a huge fan of road trips when no kids are accompanying us. 😉 We sang our hearts out to Adele and learned more than we wanted to about each other while playing “20 questions”, “Would you rather” and “Marry, sex, kill”.
Another event that has made this week extremely difficult is the loss of my dad. Without going into the complicated details of everything, I will simply say we were not on the greatest of terms. But still, the loss of a parent is confusing and emotional. To explain how his death impacts my health, I will start by saying this: my dad was an alcoholic and extremely overweight. He smoked like a freight train on top of all of that. Since he’s lived in Texas, I haven’t seen him in years and updates of him were through my grandmother who I am very close with. Sunday night, she called to let me know that my dad was extremely sick and refusing to go to the hospital. Monday his condition had worsened. I finally got ahold of my stepmother that night, and she reassured me that if he was still sick by morning, she would call an ambulance.
Tuesday morning, my oldest brother informed me that our dad was being rushed to the hospital because he was yellow. That’s when I knew it was his liver. His liver and kidneys had completely shut down. Still, I was optimistic that he could pull through (denial, I know). At around 9 Wednesday morning, I called my grandmother. His blood pressure had dropped, but he still had a heart beat. By 9:30, my grandmother was calling me in hysterics because he was gone. That’s how fast it happened!
I’m sure there had been so much damage over the years because of his alcohol abuse, but the end happened suddenly. He was 53 years old. And his five children, all relatively young (ages from 18-36) are left without a dad.
I don’t want to be 53 and dying. I’m not an alcoholic, but I’m not the epitome of health either. I am overweight, and I am an emotional eater. I’ve smoked for years, even after I’ve watched family members die of lung cancer. But they were all in their old age when they died. My dad was barely in his 50’s. I do not want to leave my children on this earth wondering why the hell I did those things to myself. Why I chose food over them.
This tragic event has sent my motivation for health even higher than it has been. I know that any of us at any moment could die, but I don’t want it to be because I’m overweight and didn’t take care of myself.
Bye, Dad. You’ll be missed by many.