I Lost My Father To Multiple Sclerosis

I’m not sure how to start this entry. I don’t know how to talk about this at all, really.

I lost my father to MS. On July 11th 2016, 1/6 of my heart was broken.

It’s been a long time since I’ve written a blog. This is mainly because I didn’t know the right way to approach this topic. But I knew that this being a blog about my life story, including the confusing and horrible parts, I couldn’t just talk around it. But I know that my dad would want me to keep writing and moving and growing, and right now, that’s about the only thing that is keeping me going.

For those of you that don’t know, my dad had Relapsing Remitting Multiple Sclerosis. Multiple Sclerosis is an autoimmune disorder that messes with a body, mind, and soul. It’s a battle he faced ever since I was little. It was always very hard to watch him go through such a horribly debilitating illness.  However bad things were though, I never imagined it would have come to this. Looking back, I think I knew something was really wrong. Even though the doctors said he was ok, even though the tests came back fine, even though I promised him that he would make it through…. There was always a really scary feeling in my body, something I couldn’t explain, and now I know why. I wish I would’ve listened to that feeling. I wish I would’ve followed my intuitions, maybe spent more time with him, or hugged him more, or done more to help. I’ll always feel guilty, in a way, even though I know it wasn’t my fault. In the end, it was a pulmonary embolism that broke my Daddy and stopped his heart. I never got to say good-bye. 

People always ask me how I’m doing. I honestly have no clue how to answer that anymore. I try to stay as busy as I can. I try to focus on being there for my sisters. I try to tell my loved ones how much I love them. I try to be there for my sisters and my mom more. I have a deep craving for good hugs and traveling, and being around family and friends. I don’t breakdown, or cry, or scream. I have even more of a fight in me, more of a drive to be successful and make my Dad proud. Maybe that means I’m doing ok. I don’t know.

But I know in a lot of ways, I do struggle every day. I’ve avoided thinking about memories of him so much that I can’t anymore, unless I’m dreaming. I’m afraid I’ll forget his voice, so I still call his number to hear his voicemail. I don’t cry anymore. Not for anything. I know I shouldn’t keep it all in. But my biggest fear is that the floodgates will not close if I open them. I try to fall asleep as fast as I can, or for some reason my brain will replay the morning we found him unresponsive in his bed, and that makes me really scared. I have to sleep with a light on. I’m anxious, and lonely, and afraid.

I’m not in any way looking for attention, by writing about this. I’m just trying to be real with you guys.  The past few months have been the worst pain I’ve ever felt. My brain has been cluttered, my heart is broken, and my soul is in recovery. But I keep trying to tell myself that pain is a part of life. Pain is what teaches you, and matures you. And change is hard…. So hard. But if theres one thing I know, its that the more you try to resist change, the more it hurts. And most of the time theres nothing you can do about it anyway, so we might as well try to go with the flow.

I want to thank everyone who is reading this-whether you ran across this post randomly or are a friend or family- for your patience. I’m trying to get my life back together right now. I want to make everyone, especially my Daddy, proud. I’m going to get back in control of my life again. I just want to say I appreciate your understanding while I’m in the process of doing so. And I just want to reassure anyone else who is going through a hard time-we are going to be ok.

With Love, Keiko