John Mohmood Jawad

I often think about your mom, Anita Jawad and i've often used a saying that i ever only heard your dad, John Jawad say, and i only heard him say it one time: "Now you're cooking with gas!" he had enthusiastically said. He was such a nice person, i'm very sorry he passed away.  I didn't know your mom had passed away.  She talked with me once, at the restaurant for about half an hour or more, when i was young, 18, and all my young frieds were telling me to quit my job at Pioneer Inn, so as to move to 'Index, Washington' and live on a farm with a lady named 'Cleo'  Your mom gave me instruction and advice that echoes back to me; over the years it has shaped my life.  She said, among other things: Patti, you cannot be responsible for others, and you can't expect others to be responsible for you; you have to be responsible for yourself.  Your dad and your mom both, were outstanding individuals
 

Dad,

You would have loved the Belmont race today, June 6, 2015. After 37 years, there is a Triple Crown winner.

Daddy,

No Christmas will ever be the same again. In fact, it does not even feel like Christmas without you. I miss you so much. You are always in my thoughts and no one  can take that away. Like Mom always said, you are and I were  very much alike, and even with you gone, I can always know what you would say about something or how you would react.
When I drive my Prius, I often think how much you would have enjoyed the car because it would be easy for you to get into.  I so enjoyed our time together. 

I love you.
Vickie 

Daddy,
Another Christmas and another sad day.  I have looked at your picture so much today and tears just flow.  I miss you so much.  Normally we would be having dinner at you house.  My family loved to spend time with you on holidays, but we hated being around "the wife".  You loved  every holiday so much...no matter what holiday it was.  You were always so cute to watch.  I keep thinking as time passes that not having you here would get easier...but it doesn't daddy.  My first thought when I woke this morning was to call you and I had to catch my breath when I remembered you weren't here.  
I love you so much...and I miss you.  I wish so badly that you were still here with Vic and me.

Deb 

Sept. 27, 2012

Today is my dad's birthday.  I have cried most of the day.  I miss you so much.  My heart still hurts so much that you are not here with Vic and me.  I would do anything to hear your voice or to see your face just one more time.  I think of you every day.  When you died something in me cracked  and died with you.  I know I will never be the same.  There has been so many times  I've wanted to pick up the phone  and ask you advice and it is still a shock  knowing you will never be on the otherside of the phone.

I wish there was a way that I could know that you can  feel  the love Vic and I have for you. 

One minute you were here and the next minute you weren't.

I love you so much........Deb 

 

I have been sitting at my computer preparing for my fall classes. Regardless of what I am doing, Dad, you are always in my thoughts. My happiest moments are related to my memories of you. What a relationship we had, and even though you are not here for me to see, I continue to have conversations with you. It is rather amusing that I know what your reply would be.

I love you so much, Dad.

My father left three messages for me on his last day. I have posted one here. Contrary to some people's comments, my father was quite clear as illustrated in the message he left. He was not on death's door as people said to justify their actions. My father's mind, voice, and what he needed were clear. He needed me to save him as he tells me to "hurry." My father knew if I did not get to him that his fate would be left in the hands of someone who wanted him to die and that is exactly waht happened. 

My sister Vic states quite clearly that she was my dad's favorite child.  If anyone wonders about it, I am here to set the record straight.  She was my father's favorite child.  Since she was little, she was always by my dad's side. I did not have the bond with my dad she did.  Do I feel bad about it or felt left out?  Absolutely not. I always knew where I fit in dad's life.  He loved me very much and I always knew it. I was a special child in his life also, but in a different way.  You had to know the family makeup to understand us.  I was quite a difficult child for my parents.  I know my parents in their own way admired my spirit.  I have always been the one in the family that was always outside looking in.  I tend to keep a distance.  My dad knew that and never tried to change the way I was. The only one who had trouble when Vickie or I would say that Vic was his favorite was  "the wife".  My-oh-my would "the wife" be upset.  I use to tell "her" that knowing I would get a raise out of "her".  I don't know why "the wife" had such a hard time hearing it. I know that "the wife" did not like the bond Vic had with dad.  I was no threat to "her" but "she" felt Vickie was. 
Why would any woman want to be a third wife and then not accept the dynamics of that family?  My dad was 84 when he died.  "the wife" had only been with dad 14 years.  He had an entire life and then some before he even "met" her.  He was born, grew up with a wonderful family, married my mom, had 5 kids, bought the ranch and had the Pioneer Inn and married the beautiful Dottie.  "the wife" was no part of the 70 years before she snagged him.  Yet she had to be in every conversation we ever had about our previous life...like she was around any of us durnig those years. Why could we never talk about our previous life with our father when she was around? "she" is one sick cookie.  I wonder if "she" has thrown all of my father's treasures away in the garbage? Treasures that ment nothing to her but did for Vic and I.   "she" certaintly will not shrare them with his children.  I want to cry everytime I think about it.  The same thing happend when our mother died...everything went into a great big dumpster. It was like neither my mom or dad ever existed. By my dad will live in the hearts of the people that loved him.           

I am watching the Belmont Stakes, and without warning, the tears started. It is nearly impossible (actually not possible) to watch the race today without the tears of heartbreak He should be alive and watching this race together.
My father and I loved watching the races and talking on the phone. We seldom agreed on which horse would win, but we enjoyed all of the races so much.
We would discuss the track conditions, the jockeys, and interesting facts about the trainers and horses.
Today it is raining and the track is a mess. If my father was here, we would discuss how many goggles the jockeys would go through. One jockey mentioned that he would likely use nine pairs.
A few weeks ago, I watched the Preakness, and I felt nothing--no joy and no pleasure. I hate these dead, empty feelings.
I wonder when the emptiness and pain will become bareable? Will it ever be bareable? I go through the motions of normacy, but there is no "normal" in life without my father.
With the exception of a few years during his marriage to Bonnie, my father and I were close. I do not regret the years that we did not speak simply because I could not tolerate Bonnie's sick, irrational behavior. She was so embarrassing to be around. I first realized how sick she was when she told me that she was jealous of my relationship with my father. Unfortunately, she acted on that jealousy after his stroke.
In the end, I realize why she was so insecure and jealous of the relationship that my father and I had; it was a relationship she could never have with my father or anyone else. However, in the end she won the battle; she withheld the medical care he needed, and she took my father from me. My father’s marriage to Bonnie literally cost him his life.

My sister is correct in everything she has said or written about the death of our father.  He was not ready to die !!!!!! That horrible woman that he married did all she could to get rid of him and finally suceeded when he was no use to her any longer.  I wish this could have been just a horribe novel that would have an ending.  There is no ending for my sister and me.  Our father is dead.  Nothing can be done to heal our hearts.  We witnessed the events of that horrible day and we will live with the fact that he was murdered the rest of our lives and there is nothing we can do about it.  I can't even think about the events on the day of his death without constant tears and the hole in my heart getting bigger every day.  And I will never move past the anger that I feel towards that horrible woman he married that killed him. 

Our father loved living every day !!!!  He saw such joy in life.  Nothing could keep him down.  Bonnie tried her best to keep him down but he just kept bouncing back.  Until he had a stroke and Bonnie finally got complete control over his life.   I once asked by dad why he always defended Bonnie.  His answer was so simple, "Because I knew nobody liked her."  I know that it hurt my dad that people did not like Bonnie.  He loved Dottie so much.... EVERBODY love her.  I remember the first time I met Bonnie I realized how much she looked like Dottie. I was so sad for him..he still loved Dottie and he pick the last in the litter and really "settled" for worse than 2nd best. 

People truly loved our father.  And he had the best time in life.  How could this one horrible woman take all that away from him?  I wish she would have given my sister and I deal to pay her some money just to go away and we would take care of our dad.  Why didn't she just ask us, bleed us dry and let our father live? 

May 7: Kentucky Derby Day: Up to last year, 2010, my father and I picked our horses, and since he was in Las Vega on the weekends, we would make our picks, and drive to the casinos and place our bets. It was quite fun. Last year, Bonnie had started her "punishment" of my father, so on weekends she would spend the day in her room and would not take my father anywhere. He became a prisoner in the LV house, so we could not place bets because Bonnie "did not feel well." This was one of the tactics she used as one of her many forms of  "punishments" directed at  my father. (I have learned over this past year that Bonnie is a sociopath; she had no life  or friends before my father. She could not keep a job, and without my father’s money, she could not have made a career or enjoyed the things she did without him.) Nonetheless, Bonnie’s sickness provided the irrational thoughts that  allowed her to believe that she had a right to “punish” my father, which is something that will haunt me for the rest of my life.  I believe in Karma, and she deserves all the bad misfortunate that rightfully comes her way.

Last year, my father told me that he wanted to go to the Kentucky Derby once in his life. I knew then that I would make plans, and I would take him this year. The trip would have been just him and I. I wish I had the chance to take him. It would be a dream experience for both of us. Though the line up for this year’s race was not that exciting,  my father and I would have enjoyed the trip and the experience anyway.

·         Hour after hour, day after day, I am haunted by the way my father died. Certainly death is part of life, but it was NOT my father's time. He had such clarity, and he was quite clear in stating that he had fight in him. He knew he could not use one side of his body, and he was doing quite well in spite of this. All he wanted was to be brought back to CA. He hated Las Vegas, and he wanted a divorce. It is extremely difficult to  live each day knowing his life was taken by withholding simple medical care. No matter what has happened in my life, it is this one thought alone that is unbearable and heartbreaking. How do we live in society and have culture where one person has the ability to decide that my father's (or any person's) value is worth more in death than in life?

April 17: About four months before my father died (to be exact, medical care was withheld causing his death), my father mentioned to me that he missed family parties. He said that he wished we were like other families who had big family holidays and gatherings. I reminded him that we did have all that when he was married to my mother and that we continued to have a united family with big family gatherings when he was married to Dottie. I reminded him how mother and Dottie celebrated family, and due to these two wives, he had what he was longing for at the time of this conversation. I felt bad that he had forgotten. Our family was so big that we started to have all of the family parties at the restaurant because there was no home big enough to hold all of us. His third wife alienated family, and few people went around them during his marriage to her. This was not because of ill feelings for my father, but it was nearly impossible to be around his third wife—a woman completely the opposite of the two previous women he has married. I never wanted to hurt my father’s feelings, so that day that we talked about this issue, I did not tell him all that I write here. Sometimes I filled in just enough information to remind him about better times. I know that the final six months of his life were sad, simply because he longed for things that he had lost during the years of his third marriage.

April 17: Because medical care was withheld resulted in my father's death, my mind wavers between happy, wonderful memories, and a pain that burns deep within. A loss of a loved one is difficult at best, but knowing that someone’s actions caused the death, makes it nearly unbearable. My father had a terrible car accident two years ago, and through my strong will, I fought hard, and he received the medical care he deserved. He was not put into a rest home as his wife wanted. I remember seeing the lists of nursing homes in his hospital room, and from that moment, I knew I would do everything in my power to ensure that my father was not left to die. My father knew I was the one person he could count on, which is the reason he called me four times that morning. He knew if he was transferred to another hospital, he would not survive. My father needed me to intervene to ensure he had a chance to survive. I wonder how long he suffered, and I wonder how long he waited for me. These are other questions I am now forced to live with.

 

 

My father would be watching the Masters today, and we would be talking about it. His life ended too early because healthcare was purposely withheld. The morning of January 17, my father was able to call me four times in a matter of minutes because he knew if he was moved to another hospital without my knowledge, he wou...ld be hidden so no one who loved him could intervene and make sure he received the care he wanted and deserved. And that is exactly what happened.
There is such a void in my life that cannot be filled. I love you, Dad. There are no words to express how much I miss you.

 

I should be pondering what to buy or do for Father's Day. It was always hard to figure out what to buy Pop, but in the last couple of years, it was easier.  Now I resent that the person who decided his death is benefitting from the gifts I gave to my father over the years.

I hope no one ever has to lose someone they love the way that I lost my father.

If he merely had one more day, my father  would have met with the attorney, and he would have been able to file the papers to divorce Bonnie. I will forever believe she found out about the appointment with the attorney, and she needed to make sure he died before he could fulfill his plans, so she withheld the healthcare he needed.

She had no right to kill my father.