So then my dad died …

Heya Kittens –

So yeah, I’ve been away for a while, and regular readers have probably guessed why. My lovely dad who fell almost exactly a year ago passed away on September 18. I just had to go look up the date because I couldn’t believe he’s been gone that long already. I’ve been in a kind of disconnected fog since I got the first call that he was going to the hospital. As I’ve told what feels like every human soul I’ve ever met already, I spoke to Dad on the phone at about 6 pm on Saturday, September 12. (I didn’t see him because I hadn’t seen him since his skilled nursing facility went into total lockdown in March and thanks very much to everybody who refused to wear a mask or acknowledge the danger until it was too late; we all appreciate you very, very much.) At 1 am on Sunday, September 13, I got a call from his floor nurse telling me that he seemed confused and upset and was being sent to the hospital with what they suspected was a very much treatable infection. By Sunday night (we still hadn’t been allowed to see him, by the way), his ICU doctor at the hospital was telling us he was desperately ill with a massive infection throughout his body that was causing his blood pressure to plummet and his kidneys to fail. They put him on high-powered drugs to try to knock back the infection before his organs were too far gone, but by Monday morning, we knew that wouldn’t work, that the most they could do for him was prolong his life in his current state – unconscious, unresponsive, and probably in pain. So following the wishes he had outlined for us very carefully months ago when it seemed ridiculous to even worry about such issues, we opted for palliative care and waited for him to die. They told us maybe hours, maybe days. We got days. He couldn’t talk to us, and we saw very little evidence that he even knew we were there. But at least we got the chance to see him and talk to him. And he was comfortable – I cannot say enough nice things about the care he received from his doctors and nurses during that horrible week or the kindness they showed all of us.

On Friday afternoon about 5 o’clock, he died.

At my sister, Sarah’s urging, I wrote his obituary. “We can’t let everybody’s last impression of Dad be the man they saw at the nursing home,” she pointed out, and of course she was right. So I did the best I could to capture him as he would have wanted to be remembered–if you’re interested, you can read the obit here.

I’ve tried to write a little bit on fiction projects since–I was already up to my knees in Stella 5 and enjoying it very much. But it’s just not happening. I’ve got finished books in the pipeline; I’ve got editing projects for amazing books from other people that I still feel energized about. But I think I’m going to take a break for a couple of months from trying to produce any new story of my own. I talked to my publishers last week, and John and Melissa were, predictably, extremely supportive and keen to help. I’d say I can’t even imagine how I’d get through this if I didn’t know they have my back, but I can imagine it; I went through it when my mom died. And trust me, kittens, if it’s at all possible, always work with people who are decent humans first and talented artists second; it makes all the difference in the world. My little sister and fellow author, Alexandra Christian, has an amazing new book that actually came out the week Dad died, Falling Into Rhythm. It’s so good, y’all, and she worked so hard on it and was so excited about it finally coming out. If you’re looking for a good romance read, you really will love it. And like me, she could really use a win right now.

Anyway … I’m okay. I really am. I have a wonderful husband, and our whole family is extremely close, and we’re hanging on to one another and getting one another through it. And I’m not going anywhere; I’ll still be around, banging on about one thing and another. But my heart is broken, y’all. And I just wanted to tell you why.