Victor Albert Gaouette - Online Memorial Website

Dear Dad, Strange how the minutes and hours of that horrible day are so etched into all of our memories. I remember what I was doing that saturday as well. I had stopped by the house to visit, intending to make it to Auntie's grave because it was her birthday but I remember I did not make it there. I remember having a conversation with you about getting a dog. You were completely against it. (looking back it is a good thing I did not get one yet because I don't have time for one). This was the last conversation I had with you before your stroke. That night I spent the evening re organizing my closet with my fall and winter clothes. Jason was at a friends house. I had a lot of coffee that day and could not fall alseep that night so I took a sleeping pill. They were prescibed to Jason and I did not realize their strength. I just wanted to go to sleep. I went into a coma and woke to my phone ringing after 9 am sometime. (I had woken a few minutes earlier and turned it on but dozed back off)  I had left my phone off for the night which is something I never did and have never done since. For some reason I did that night, and it was the ONE NIGHT that it mattered. I regret that so much, I don't know why things happen the way they do sometimes. Although I was in a dense fog, the second I heard the phone ring, before I even knew who it was, I knew something had happend. I knew it was you, Dad. I just knew. Ana was the one calling, she told me to come to Lawrence General right away. When I got there, I thought they had put you on some kind of drugs, but they hadn't. You were not very responsive yet you could not stop figeting. I tried to do reiki on you. It was my first time and I brought my book so I knew where to focus the healing. Everyone told me you were awake and joking earlier. What happend that morning I will never know. Something went wrong in that hospital, how could you be fine, and then get worse? We will never know. I will never forget the terrible feelings of that day. Sometimes it is too much to even think about. I miss you so much. Love, Meagan

Dad, a year already! I remember having you in my thoughts all day on that Saturday. I was out in Atlanta at one of our monthly theatre shows on Sunday, thinking I will call my Dad when I get home after the show, feeling sick to my stomach when I saw a Mass number appear on my phone, somehow knowing the news wasn't gonna be good. I remember feeling regret for moving to Georgia. You were so concerned about my moving so far away so soon after my illness, still in the progress of recovery. Little did we know the concern was going to turn towards you so soon. The whole family seemed so certain you would be back on your feet soon enough and I was comforted by thier optimism. I am glad I had the opportunity to visit you shortly before you left us, wishing I had made the trip earier than I had. Being there with you for a few short hours every day was a comfort and I soon felt the optimism everyone else had, only to be smacked down shortly after returning home. I will always love and miss you ~Vic

Well Dad, Today is the day. One year later. I went to bed last night thinking, I do not want the year to some so quickly. I am not ready to say "my dad fell ill a year ago" It still feels like yesterday to me. I woke up this morning at 4:30 and the first thing I thought of was- Dad had his stroke at this time last year. I remember the morning of getting the call from Ana. I was at Plum Island. My phone rang and I knew it was something bad. Lenny knew too, I got off the phone and he said " is it your dad?" I rushed to the hospital. I remember waiting in the emergency room with everyone. You were awake and talking and joking. I was convinced that this was just a little bump in the road. We would have to make some changes but we would get through it. I remember you actually seemed better at that point than you did for the remainder of your stay. What happened during that day? How did you get worse once you were at the hospital? It is not suppose to happen that way...people go to the hospital to get better not worse. What happened? I will never know but will always question.

Although it is now a year since you got sick, the pain is still the same. You will always be loved and missed. See you in my dreams..... 

Dear Victor, Already a year has passed since our lives all took a left turn, veering off  the familiar road of life. Your illness sent all of us on an uncertain, scary journey. I think back and wonder if there were any signs of what was to come and wonder why I didn't know. I do remember a conversation with you about the highboy you were working on. You said "I have to get going on this. I haven't got much time." And my reply was, "What do you mean you haven't got much time? You've got all winter to work on it." Sadly, I was so very wrong and now I wonder what you really meant. I go down to your shop and look at the piece of mahogany you used your Father's Day money to buy. I stare at the four mahogany legs, only one so lovingly carved by you during the few weeks prior to your stroke. All you really wanted to do was build furniture in your shop, like your Dad did. Your sudden passing seems such a cruel stroke of fate. I will never forget you. I cherish the life we had together. Love, Susan

Dad,  This month it will be a year since you came down sick. I just can't believe it. I think about that day, and remember it soo clearly. I remember that saturday night I went out with my friends from work and had a great time, and it makes me feel so guilty and so sad because while I was out having a blast you were moments away from a stroke. It is weird because when my phone rang with the bad news, in the early morning hours, I said to myself "something happened to Dad" ..some reason I just knew.

That was one of the worst days of my life and the longest. But I remember quickly regaining hope that you would be back to your old self one day, with time and effort I was determined that that would happen. There was not a doubt in my mind that you wouldn't ever make it home. I constantly envisioned that day that you would finally come home, I thought, we will have a big party with everything you love!, we would have gone from one of the worst days to one of the best days. I am so sorry you didn't make it home, Dad. Part of me wishes that we had just taken you home right away, no rehab, no nursing home, no hospital...things just kept getting worse, and we had no idea.

 

"If we only knew".......as useless as it is, I will be saying those words for the rest of my life.

You are forever missed, I love you Dad

Love, Tash