And I still miss u Dad...

Can't believe how fast time goes by. Now it's two years without my Dad. Seems to me like it was yesterday when I stood next to him in the hospital, he lying there, all these machines around him, that made his heart beating and kept him alive while his brain was already dead. He looked so painful, he seemed so far away and yet he was so near. I felt him, I hold his hand, ran my other hand over his face. Just to feel his warm skin, still warm skin.
My Mum stood next to me, she cried. I cried, too. We knew these were the last minutes with him alive. Yes, for us he was still alive. His heart was beating, he was breathing. Yes, a machine helped him to do so, but it happened! He was alive.
But not for long. There was also a doctor with us in my Dad's room. It was time to say goodbye. Time to let my Dad go. I will never ever forget this moment. You get used to the sounds of all these machines when you spend enough time around them. Like we did. We tried to be at his side as long as we could when he was in this medically induced coma. The first days my Mum stayed at his side every night, I spelt her in the morning after I brought my daughter to the Kindergarten. I stayed at my father's side until the afternoon, then my aunt came and in the evening it was again my Mum who sat next to him. We never wanted him to be alone. After a few days we weren't allowed to stay at his side during the nights anymore. But we still were there the whole days. We were there the whole twelve days. We read him the newspapers, I read him the biography of his favourite musicband "Rosenstolz". I played him his fav songs from his MP3 Player. Liv and me recorded some talking and she also played a lil bit music on that tape. I played it to my Dad, just hoped that Liv's voice would help him to find his way back to us.
But then they made another EEG and told us that his brain was too damaged, that he was braindead. We couldn't believe it. Didn't want to believe it. We have been full of hope all the time. We didn't want to be without him. He was our father, my Mum's husband, Liv's grandpa. He was our family. And they told us that we had to let him go. That he was dead. But his heart was beating!
So we stood there, at his side, listened to the sounds of the machines. We looked to the doctor who was just waiting for us. A last look at my Dad, my living Dad. Then he stopped the machines. It was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. The machines stopped, so did the sounds. It was so quiet in his room. The only thing you could hear were us crying, my Mum and me. We saw how his chest stopped moving. He wasn't breathing anymore. And his heart stopped beating. He was dying. And we just stood there and watched it happen. We saw how life was fading away from him. His skin turned grey and there was this expression on his face I will never forget. And as we stood there, his skin got colder. A few minutes ago he was so warm. He felt so familiar then. And now? He was gone. His body was still there, but my Dad was gone.
We left the room, but not voluntarily. A nurse asked us to go because she wanted to prepare him for laying him down. We waited outside his room. My boyfriend was there, and my lil brother. Both weren't able to stay at my Dad's side when he left us.
All I remember from this minutes is that I stood there crying, my boyfriend was holding me. He stroke my hair, he hold me in his arms, said sth. to me, but I don't remember what it was. I'm still so thankful that he was there, that I wasn't alone.
My brother stood there in silence. And my Mum tried to stop crying, tried to be strong. But I still dunno why. Or for whom. He was dead. No reason to be strong. My Dad was gone. Forever. He left our lifes. It wasn't his fault. I still believe that it were the ambulance men's fault. But that's another story.
After a short time which seemed to last like an enternity they called us to see my Dad again. For the very last time. We went into this small room, he lay in his bed and he looked so peaceful, so ransom. It was such a beautiful view. My boyfriend started crying when he saw my Dad. I never thought that it could hit him that hard. He only knew my Dad for six months then.
My lil brother stood there, tried to be strong, tried not to be weak. But I could see the tears in his eyes. He lost his father, just as I did.
My boyfriend left the room. I took my Mum into my arms and hold her close. She cried. So did I.
I think it was then when I really realized that my Dad was really dead.
How should I explain this to my daughter? She was a grandpa's kid. She was his everything and he was her hero. She was so small back then, just 1,5 yrs old. How should I explain to her that her grandpa wouldn't come back home from hospital? How do you explain death to a kid when you don't understand it yourself?
I was thinking the whole time. I couldn't find my peace as my Dad seemed to have. And I still don't have.
Two years went by and I still don't understand that he's gone.
Today I was at his grave again. It was as weird as it has been all the times before. Everytime when I read his name at this gravestone, when I see his picture at it, it hurts. My heart hurts, my soul cries. And I can feel the tears in my eyes. Then I just start talking to him. I tell him about my sorrows, about everything that happened since the last time I visited him. I'm sure he can hear me. And see me. I'm sure that he's always around to watch us, to take care. And it's this thought that helps me to get along and to deal with his death.

Dad, I miss you and I will always miss you. I'm sure one day we'll meet again!