03/15/26 Sunday So, Yesterday I had a party. Due to his brain cancer, my father is unfortunately dying. On Friday the hospice nurse came, and told my mom that my dad is transitioning into his final stage of life. Which basically means he has a week at max.Now, you're probably wondering how the fuck this leads up to a party. I'll tell ya. It's a celebration of life party. So, tons of family stopped at my house yesterday and we partied to celebrate my dad and his life with what little time he has left. It was really fun actually, there was tons of food, everyone was chill.The basic run down is, at the start of the day, I woke up bright and early. I usually do tho, so nothing special. By the afternoon, my grandma arrived with her situationship, Jesus. I high-key hate him but y'know... Immediately they were in the kitchen making pasta mixed with hamburg and peppers. So, my sister and I were talking and turned on Trolls: Band Together. Jesus sat with us and watched. Around this time, my aunt, her kids, her friend, and the friend's daughter arrived. So, my aunt and her friend focused on helping prep while I took up the babysitting job, leaving the 8 year old, 6 year old, and one year old under my care. I gave them my plushies and sat with them in my living room while the movie continued to play. Unfortunately the 1 y.o is at walking age, and loves it, so I let her sit with Jesus and he fed her.Eventually everyone began to arrive, while I continued to entertain the kids in the front yard with tag, ring around the Rosie, and plush toys. That was until the 8 y.o fell and we had to go back inside to bandage it because he slipped on ice. I hate the winter. I actually enjoyed a huge amount of the party, spending it with the drinking adults in the dining room. They even gave my dad alcoholic lemonade. It was funny. What really surprised me is the lack of crying that happened.By the end of the party, my dad was exhausted, and everyone was leaving, fed, entertained, and tired. The last people left were my aunt and her friend plus their individual children. I just sat in the living room holding the baby, and watching the slideshow on the TV of my dad through the years. I teared up a little bit, but I didn't let myself cry. I finally spoke up to the friend."It's crazy how she won't remember him outside of old pictures."I kinda blurted it out as I stared at the baby, now waddling around our living room. The friend, Rachel replied, mentioning that my aunt had actually brought it up too. That brought me at least some form of comfort that I wasn't the only one thinking it. Once everyone left, I actually felt very fulfilled. Satisfied even. I was quick to return to bed, dude.I actually laid in bed on the phone with my friends for quite awhile. We played jeopardy, a blooket, and just talked. I'm really lucky to have them.Not too long into my fun however, my sister walked in, talking about how worried she was about our dad. For background, my mom had a firm belief that my dad would die on the day of the party. So, my sister told my cousin, who told her that it would probably happen around midnight. So, my sister was nervous because it was then 11 pm and she thought our dad would kick it. We play argued over it for a minute before she went back to bed. Thankfully my dad has made it to 8 pm as of writing this.
