most difficult phonecall I have ever had to make

I called Hospice today for my father. I thought I could handle it, I thought I would be relieved because it has been 20 months of heartbreak: 11 visits to the emergency room, countness catscans, pettests, ultrasounds, stent repl acements…..much more bad news, then good news, waiting on pins and need les for test results, being so nervous and scared I vomited. When the Oncologist told my sister inlaw and I the other day that the last round of chemo did not work and my fathers tumor markers were up and the lung mets had increased in size and number and new nodules found in his abdomen, I thought I would be prepared for the news. I had rehearsed it in my head many times because we knew from the beginning with his type of metastasis the chemo would probably not work. I wasn’t prepared for the stab in my heart, the blow to my sole, I wanted to be anywhere but in that doctors office at that moment. They were very nice from Hospice and incredibly sypathetic, but I still wish I never had to know how amazing they can be.
I am sitting on my dads bed with him now with my laptop, he is sleeping. The pain is just too much for him now. We tried yesterday to cut out some of his vicadin and just stick to the fentanal patch so he would be more lucid, and that worked and we were able to carry on conversations with him. That was really, really nice, but he was in a lot of pain, and so the unselfish side of me that loves my dad more than anything in the world doesnt want him in pain, so I know we have to keep him medicated. It is just so hard to let go, even when he is here we are having to let go a little everyday. I miss his strong voice with his perfect Engish spoken with an Italian accent, his stories of the old days, his infectous laugh, he and my mom sharing red wine everynight, his amazing risotto funghi dish, I will miss beyond believe looking out my kitchen window and seeing him working in the garden he planted for me….. Watching this man, who just two years ago was breaking cement with his own two hands, not a machine(his employees call him fuerte jefe-strong boss) wither away, and slowly leave us, is sometimes too much to handle. He really fought this cancer with everything he had, but the fight is over. I know I need to get to that spiritual place, and I know I will eventually because I have a child and a family and life is a good thing, but It is going to take a long, long time. My 10 year old son asked me the otherday when we were in the car(I was driving, and trying to hide my tears) “mommy, are you always going to be sad?” It broke my heart, and b/c of him, I know I have to try. Npw I am watching my dad sleep and kissing his forhead and telling him how much I love him and I always will. thanks for letting me talk, It gives me great comfort to know you all understand, and trust me, I wish None of you had to be on this site. Excuse my errors, difficult to type through tears.
Barbara