I can't be mad at him

I can't be mad at my dad for choosing to die.
My dad was diagnosed in late July with CNS lymphoma. He had a massive tumor in his frontal lobe and surgery was only able to remove part of it. It was the first day of what was supposed to be a vacation in upstate New York. We had noticed him acting a little strangely the week before, but he stubbornly refused to go to a doctor until we were in Syracuse. I remember when they said he had a brain tumor the floor fell from beneath my feet and I felt cold all over. It couldn't be happening. He had his surgery in New York and we left for home (Kansas, driving) a few days later.
He was back in the hospital almost as soon as we got home. He had an infection, which necessitated more surgery. But he also had diabetes, so they had to get his blood sugar under control before they could clear the infection. He was in the ICU for almost a week I believe, mostly not responsive.
After another week or so he was transferred to a different hospital that would be able to give him treatment and rehab. But he developed swelling in his legs, which meant they had to delay chemo again to deal with it. Finally, over a month after his diagnosis, he started chemo. His body reacted well, and he was doing daily physical and mental rehab. He was bedridden the whole time though. After two rounds they did another MRI. Some of the tumor had grown, some had shrunk. They switched to whole brain radiation.
Eighteen rounds of that later, and he had shown a drastic improvement. We could talk to him like normal, his memory was improving, and they'd even had him stand at least once (with a lot of assistance). The lesions in his brain showed a lot of improvement. Two more rounds of radiation and they would take a break, do more chemo, then possibly discharge him to a rehab center.
Then he got a c-diff infection. Then his kidneys started to fail. Within a week of hearing the good news about the radiation, my dad decided to go to hospice. He passed peacefully a week after that.
People have asked me if I am mad at my dad for choosing this. For giving up. I'm not. How could I be? At that point, he had been in a hospital, completely bedridden, since August 1st. That was almost four months. Not being able to use a bathroom, having a catheter and soiling himself. Wearing nothing but a hospital gown. A constant stream of nurses and doctors poking and prodding him. The confusion and difficulty that came with his tumor. We don't really know what treatment felt like for him. He never seemed to show signs of getting sick from the chemo, but we just don't know. My dad was fiercely stubborn and hated people worrying about him. He rarely took pain medication, always saying it was at 0. Plus he seemed depressed, which is natural. He never complained or talked about it though. He sparkled when we visited him or did weekly Skype chats with my brother who is in California. He acted like everything was fine as best he could, even in his times of confusion. So how can we know what he was really feeling?
Yes, my mom had Power of Attorney. Yes, she could have ignored his request and forced him to receive treatment. But she didn't. My dad asked her to let him go and she did. Because that is love. She knew he was suffering, knew he had absolutely no quality of life. Keeping him alive just for the sake of keeping him alive was pointless and selfish. Someone said to me that him giving up was selfish, but honestly I don't agree. He didn't want us to suffer with him anymore.
It has been almost a month since he died and nothing feels real yet. Even though life is essentially the same as it was while he was in the hospital, minus the weekly visits and the ability to call him. I have described it as slowly sinking into mud.
I love my dad and I always will. It pains my heart that he won't see me fall in love and get married or meet my kids. I am only 25. But he gave me all the tools I need to continue without him. He was a very special person who touched the lives of all who knew him. He has left a legacy that will carry on for generations. Being angry is a waste of all of that he taught me. The best way to honor him is to keep living my life to the fullest. Which is exactly what I plan to do.

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