Post Partum Depression

He labored to give up his soul, daily visiting him became similar in my mind to attending a crucifixion as everything that gave my father dignity and personhood was stripped away by the gnawing teeth of the cancer. Physical weakness pinned him to the mattress of the nursing home bed, unable to sit, roll over  or independently reposition himself. My father was dependent on the aides to help him take the lids off his food, pour the water from his pitcher and empty his bedside urinal. He relied on the promptness of the nurses to keep his pain medication to be administered at regular intervals for a modicum of comfort. His back and neck spasmed, burning stabbing pains would shoot through his abdomen, thrush infections turned his mouth into a raw stinging cavern and then the Mersa infection in his bladder added to the misery. for the most part my father took it all stoically, saving his complaints when the aides would drop the tray with out positioning it in his reach, l waving him lying prone on his back like some turtle waiting to be flipped over again. the aides would take their time coming back if he rang and one refused to help him at all because my father was short with him one day. my father would complain to me and I would go to the nurses station and try to make it all better. When I would walk into the nursing home I felt like they would be thinking here comes the bitch, what is she going to complain about today? why can't I just die, my father would ask. I would reply I had no idea, that this wasn't like taking a dog to the vet to put down. But now he is gone. For the last t,en years, since the passing of my mom, I have been my father's keeper, helping him move from apartment to apartment, (he made seven apartment moves in ten years) as no place seemed to satisfy him and his sense of feng shui. He is gone now, as is my brother and mother. I find myself the last of my nuclear family, the last of "my kind", in a sense. My father labored hard to deliver his soul to  our Creator. As he drew closer to the day he also drew closer to a realization that he was a beloved son of God. Feeling like I am adrift now, after dancing a delicate cha cha with my father and husband all these years.  Thought  I would be relieved to be able to end the dance but in reality being an orphan at any age, is tough. My father labored hard from 1:30 am March 27 until 5:15 pm when he passed.  The post partum depression has begun.