My dad passed away almost a month ago. July 9th. Our relationship was complicated in many ways, but I forgave the past and I loved him. He abused drugs and alcohol, heavily for the past decade or so. This time last year, he had just gotten out of the hospital. He had a large portion of his stomach removed, and found he had heart failure. Doc said, drugs and alcohol WILL kill you. He stayed sober, for so long. Longer than he'd ever had before. Due to the past, I couldn't let him live with me. He went to a home for disabled homeless men, and did so well. Until he didn't. Alcohol got him yet again, and he was back on the streets. A week before he died he decided to give up. Not commit suicide, but to just give in to his urges. He started using meth again. His heart gave out, and he passed sometime in the night. So much guilt for me....if only I had brought him home. If I had let him live here....he'd still be alive. If only. I never got to say goodbye either....I ignored his last phone call because I wad mad he started drinking again.